blur and jumble

As I mentioned, memories begin to blur and jumble together as time goes by. It keeps happening, blurring, jumbling, going by. But some things are slightly more permanently fixed in memory with the aid of photographs. But sometimes there is a mismatch with some remembered seeming fact and the photograph. And when one writes, one can play fast and loose with the so called facts and bend and mold them to the fit the memory, or to better fit a story, or to fit a better story. I admit I've done that at times, but I do prefer to remember things accurately, or if not remember them accurately, ask people who might, or maybe do some research and cross referencing and come up with some reasonable approximation of what happened, or what seemed to happen. Recently I met cousin Mike for a coffee. He was attending a conference relatively close to where I live and I happened to find out he would be here for a few days so we arranged to meet. It was a far too short, but really pleasant visit (though on my way to the coffee place an unexpected rain soaked and an expected chill shivered me, but that's another story). I was thinking it might have been 40 years since the last time we'd met. But as we were talking about old memories, it became clear that it was less time than that.

Summer at the Shack

Family fun in the North Woods

I remembered, vaguely, of course, visiting the cabin in the summer when we were very young, staying in the tent outside the cabin instead of inside the cabin, to avoid the mosquitos, mice, snakes, bats, etc. And I am not even completely certain these are first hand memories. They could just be memories of stories, and memories shaped and formed by looking at photos such as these two. Somehow, perhaps ten years ago, I identified them "1972ish" but I'm not sure how I came to that conclusion. My dad remembers well the make, model and year of cars he had, and that's the 1968 gold AMC Ambassador sedan, so that might have been part of the evidence. Or it might have been that I looked to be two and a half to three and half years old, if that is me, way in the back wearing dark trousers and a light blue shirt. One thing I remembered, or at least think I remember, or can vaguely visualize, is sitting in the back seat of a large car of the seventies, driving down the dusty gravel road, maybe it was the gold Ambassador, with someone who had a fish hook embedded in their scalp sitting in the front passenger seat, holding something against their head to staunch the flow of blood. Someone else hadn't been paying attention and cast their line without looking behind and ended up catching a human. I can't remember who the victim was, but have the impression it was an older boy, perhaps even a teenager. Cousin Mike remembered the trip (better than me, as he's older) and he remembered swinging a tent pole around and hitting my brother in the head (he still has the scar). I had forgotten about that part, but it reminded me that the fish hook in the head was the second injury of that trip, and perhaps the second trip into town to see a doctor or get medical supplies. I knew that wasn't the last time I'd seen cousin Mike though, because I remembered meeting at Grandad's house in Racine, as seen in the photo on this page, which must have been mid seventies. One thing I remember about that trip was sitting in the upstairs bedroom in Racine at night with a strong wind blowing in off the lake, whooshing through the trees, making the roof creak, while one of our cousins told a ghost story. For a time, I was thinking that must have been the last time we'd seen each other, but I remembered my dad, my brother and I taking a trip to Texas in my dad's old Fiat to visit for Christmas. That must have been in the eighties. Actually, it might have been earlier, because one of my memories of the trip is playing with a Merlin electronic game (by Parker Brothers). I think we got it for our cousins as a present, but my dad allowed us to carefully open the box and play with it during the 3 day trip to Texas. It probably prevented many arguments and fights. It also probably caused a few because, "It's my turn now!" And, "Two more minutes, I almost won!" If memory serves, we then repackaged it for giving as a gift. It made quite an impression on us. The intensity of playing for hours in a car on a trip with the little lights and beeps. We loved it and wanted to get one. Maybe we got a used one some time later, but by then it had lost a lot of its magic. The internet says it was introduced in 1978 and was popular "throughout the 80s" so it would have been in that time period. But it was definitely before my dad had the 1979 Datsun B210. I wonder if he got it used or new. I remember it being in good condition. It was blue. But I digress. My conclusion was that it might have been a mere 35 years or so since last we'd seen each other, not 40. But while we talked, cousin Mike mentioned something about seeing Grandad at a family reunion in Michigan, and said it in a way which made it seem like he didn't remember that I was there, in the same way that I hadn't remembered that he was there, and I was going to say, "Yeah, I was there," but then the conversation turned. That reunion was around 1992, so it was a mere quarter of a century since we'd seen each other, not four decades at all.

Grandad at family reunion in Michigan