When I started writing this blog in the fall of 2017, I didn’t know how many stories I’d recall. I had a few I wanted to tell right away because they were important to me, while others were simply crumbs rolling around in my brain. I’ve learned some come in great floods, like poured cereal from a newly opened box. Others get squeezed out like the last dab of toothpaste. Still others drip out a drop at a time. Life is full of them, but sometimes when you try to remember you just don’t. I’ve found it’s best to wait and let things come to you.
Some return in conversations with friends. I didn’t know they were still there until a word, or phrase, shook them loose. Talking them through helps disperse the fog. Sometimes a news story, or the Sunday comics, triggers their release. While I may have never experienced the same thing the man in the newspaper or the girl on TV is recounting, I have a memory of something similar. I just need to pry it out.
If I get stuck for inspiration, I look at old photos. They help shake the cobwebs loose. It’s amazing how one face on a picture can restore so many memories. Places and people I thought long forgotten, reappear. It’s like they never left at all.
I’ve chosen to avoid some stories as they may be hurtful. Not everything in life is fun. We’ve all had our share of conflicts and I believe it’s best to let some things go, even though they’d make an interesting read. Others are just too soon to tell. The dust is still settling, and if they never get reported, so be it.
I’ve done my best to retell my story as the pieces reappear. While it’s true I’ve been known to embellish a tale or two, they are, for the most part, the truth as I remember it. I’ll never purposefully try to deceive anyone. Most times, the truth is more interesting than any fable I might conjure up. And while my words might not be as eloquent as others, they’re mine. Just like the stories I’ve chosen to share.