In Retrospect 2/6/2022

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

The dictionary defines the term reminisce as to recall past experiences, events etc.  That seems terribly sterile.  But after a semicolon it also calls it indulging in reminiscence.  While that seems a bit redundant, I get it.  Indulge definitely seems, at least to me, to be the right word there.  It seems to me that just remembering which is what that initial definition brings to mind seems to be something entirely different.  But to me, to reminisce is almost as if you were reliving the experience not just noting its existence. I equate reminiscing with rolling a taste of some very complex dish over your tongue and breathing deeply.  You are trying to really pick up all the notes and subtle undertones that are there to fully immerse yourself in the experience.  To remember is to just pull a file from the brain’s cabinet, have a quick review and refile.  To reminisce is to find a file that you didn’t really have to look for because its edges are so tattered from being frequently pulled that you just reach in the cabinet and go to it directly. Then you spread its entire contents out on a table and pour over them.  You flip to see both sides of every page and you examine any doodles in the margins.  You examine the pen strokes and maybe even the choice of paper.  You may even just sit for a time not really reading but just being there.  Yes, I would say to reminisce is far, FAR different than to just remember. So, I guess today I am going to the cabinet and going to some of those files that have been pulled and pulled again.  Some were because of how much I enjoyed them as they were created and some because they were so cringeworthy that the contents are burned into my memory like it or not.  In thinking about it, I don’t suppose that I can guarantee that me reminiscing will be that intriguing to you the reader since there is no guarantee that my mind’s files will appeal to anyone other than myself but well, one can hope.

We are going to start with something that is going to seem so silly and insignificant you will probably raise an eyebrow as you read and be surprised I am even bothering to put this into type.  Perhaps though you will find some relatability because this first scenario I shall present is one that is a blowtorch in the back of my mind because it was one of embarrassment. Does anyone have one of those?  It may not even have been something that was technically that significant of an occasion, but it still is just concreted in your mind for the sheer humiliation of it? I daresay very few people even remember this moment or gave it much of a thought but oh the humanity, I loathe it.  It was in high school government class. It was a year we were electing a new state governor and we were learning about the campaigning process, and we had put students in the roles of the candidates and all the different workers. I was one of the candidates’ campaign managers. We had a big assembly in front of the whole school where the students gave a big speech. It was my job to introduce my candidate. As I finished my introduction I closed with, “Ladies and gentlemen, your next governor of the state of Alabama”….and proceeded to, in a heinous slip of tongue, say the opponents name. I am physically pained at the thought of this.  I feel like my misspeak even impacted the actual election in my state because in fact the opponent did win. I suppose my only consolation is that governor is now in prison for unethical whatnots but still. I announced my opponent the winner! You can’t see it but I am grimacing. The horror.

Now that I have shared with you a less than pleasant moment, let us move to greener pastures. We were taking a family trip that involved flying across the country.  It was my first flight of such a magnitude. It was amazing to witness the folds of rock and snow flying over the Rocky Mountains.  I remember the vastness of seeing the expanse of the Great Plains from roughly six miles above.  While all of these are indeed beautiful memories it was something at the end of that flight that truly left its mark. As we began our approach to the airport in Portland, Oregon my mother told me to look out at Mount Hood. I did as I had done throughout the flight and looked down. Down was not the way to look. There, right outside the window, seemingly inches from the plane was Mount Hood in all its glory. It was not down it was beside us, disconcertingly close and breathtaking. Not only was that visual imprinted in the mind but also the fact that it seemed no matter where in the city or surrounding area you were, there the mountain stood, a majestic and ever-present silent guard.  I will never forget the sight and undeniable presence of that colossus.

I’ve rambled more than I should have. I wish that were a new development, but we all know this isn’t the first time and likely won’t be the last.  Feel free to take a few minutes to do your own reminiscing.  Open the drawer and pull one of the most worn folders. Devote some time to spreading it out.  Those are the signs of a life well lived.  And if you’ve got a good collection of those moments then let them dance on your mental palate for a bit. Relive them.  If it left enough of an impression then it deserves a bit of a revel, or if you asked the dictionary, indulgence even.