Writing Memories

How to begin telling these stories of my life?  Opening lines like, “It was a dark and stormy night,” “I was dead on the day I was born,” and “Call me Ishmael,” have already been taken.   How about Ruminating a sudden career change in 1998, I appreciated the distraction of driving a new Jeep Grand Cherokee…?”  Do I really need to point out that I was fired? Isn’t that enough to pique the interest?

Writing stories from my life story has been like working on a giant jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces.  Some were found in dusty closet shelves and chilly storage facilities, while other pieces were discovered in listening to my own life, and to others who shared the journey.

Shape-shifting memories present another hurdle. Eye witness accounts are rarely accurate, even in court.  Memories collude with each other as we create the stories of our lives.  Convinced something happened 25 years ago, a friend says, “Actually it was 1995.”  I think, That’s impossible!  My wife describes our combined birthday party in great detail down to the shoes she wore, and I think “Was I there?” It’s not that I wasn’t paying attention, right?

My research tools for inspiring and correcting memories, were the twenty years of hand written journals and a vast collection of pictures.  Cell phones may record current events, but the past requires ancient technology. Fortunately, I have been taking pictures since I was ten years old, using a Kodak Brownie, an Argus C-3, Pentax K 1000, Yashika, Lumex, and more.  I can’t remember them all, but I do know this; 5.000 time-stamped slides never lie.

And there is the word I need for today. No lies,  only the truth as I see it.