First of all, who are these famous “they”?
And why would we bother to believe anything they say? Sometimes a return to the past can be not
only wonderful but salutary.
But before I get into the more
philosophical aspects of that title, there are the more mundane. Although 99%
of the time I am ever so grateful for the freeway bypass of the city of Thonon
in France, there is that 1%. This time on my way to the mountains I decided
that I really did need to see the beautifully flowered roundabouts and lakefront
that were on my path for so many years. Having no appointments, nor timing to
be respected, I decided to not take the bypass but to wander. The floral
displays were every bit as lovely as I remembered, but I had forgotten the
fountains – a deviation well worth the extra minutes.
The roundabout upon entering Thonon |
Fountains on the lake front of Thonon |
Part of the roundabout leaving Thonon |
middle band in Evian |
Flower pot in front of City Hall in Evian |
That in turn reminds me of many favorite
roads, some of which I may never have the pleasure of driving again, but that
are there in my memory should I need them.
And so it is with the past: perhaps we
can’t return to that exact minute, the exact circumstances, the good, bad,
indifferent or wonderful, but we can’t simply ignore that they ever existed
either nor that they are part and parcel of what we have become.
I treasure a childhood friendship more
today than I did then; I wouldn’t give up those from over 40 years ago, nor
those from 30 years ago, nor those more recent. Each new friendship adds a
layer to my life – building upon those solid foundations laid by others.
Going down an old path doesn’t mean trying
to repeat that past, it simply means seeing something distant again – seeing it
in a different way, perhaps indifferently, but just as likely the experience
can be even better than the first time.
One road in particular illustrates my
thoughts: Highway 1 in California.
I surely first experienced this with my
parents as I know we did visit relatives who spent their summers at Hearst
Castle, but my memories are vague and I probably found it tiresome at the
time. The next time I drove this would
have been with my husband and older son – at least a short bit of it – there
too what remains thirty years later – is the sensation I had of wanting to
simply let the car float off into the clouds at one of the many turns winding
along the Pacific Ocean. Then there was
the time I drove it alone, traveling in between my two sisters – a beautiful
road, but simply one joining my family members. More recent visits hold
stronger memories:
-
driving it with my now deceased
little sister;
-
the trip when we returned from
Northern California together with my older son and stopped at many favorite
places along the way
-
the trip with a girlfriend from
Switzerland where I got lost, but we ended up discovering what became one of my
favorite hotels along the route.
-
the trip up with my sister and
sister-in-law after the death of the other sister (truly a pilgrimage that
trip)
-
the trip with my younger son
and his then girlfriend before one of my nephew’s wedding
I have many favorite places from the past
to which I would gladly return, but each year I add new ones so who knows how
many I will be able to repeat; how many will remain in the past and how many
will become a new experience each time.
It is the same with people: we change, they
change, but true friends simply add better layers and experiences – the past is
with us always, may we incorporate it into our lives in the best manner
possible. May the future be enriched by our past, all the while enjoying the
present to the fullest.
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