By Lee Scott
It is fun as you grow older to recall things that happened in the past. Those amusement parks you went to with a sibling or a friend or the vacation you took with your family. All those childhood experiences that happened or at least your memory’s version of what happened.
Sitting around with my siblings recently and reminiscing, I found it was amazing to discover their version of the same event. “No, they say, Jean was not there. That was Martha.” I laugh when this happens because my father used to ask us as we grew older, “What was your recollection of an event?” He understood that because we were at different ages and stages of our lives that our perspectives of past events might be different. He loved to hear the eight different memories.
My oldest sister was six months shy of graduating from high school and off to college when our youngest brother was born. Their memories of the family are so different and their perspective of family gatherings were totally opposite since she was already an adult while he was still in the sandbox.
Recently, I wrote a piece about the houseboat, The Biofore, that was brought to land and used as a summer rental by our family and sent it out to family members. My siblings and cousins all had their own memories of the place, some correct and some not, but it did not matter. They were all good memories.
Now I find that it is interesting that when pulling from memories of being four years old, I find that the specifics of the events do not really matter. It is the sentiment. My grandfather used to take me, my brother (one year older) and my little sister (two years younger) to a little candy shop when we would visit. He would buy us candy cigarettes, candy necklaces and some other equally heavily laden sugar products. He would act surprised that I was smoking and suggest that maybe I should kick the habit. He would tell my sister how beautiful she looked in her candy necklace and shake his head at my brother as he sucked down the flavored juice out of a wax figure and then chewed the wax. Whether that memory is exactly as I have presented, does not matter. At some point, I went to the candy store with Grandpa. At some point I was with Sandy and Allison in a candy store and at some point, I thought I was really cool smoking those candy cigarettes. It is my memory.
