"Memories

light the corners of my mind. Misty water color memories of the way we were...."
Memory is such a whimsical thing - one day we remember happenings from the past so clearly, the next day, try as we might to remember something specific - nothing. It is also interesting the way participants remember the same incident differently or not at all.
It does seem that as we age it is easier to remember things that happened or things we learned at a young age more easily than more recent happenings. I suspect that is why we tend to talk about the 'good old days' more than current events.
Yesterday Bud & I were treated to lunch by my brother Ron and his wife Marge. We hadn't been together since younger brother Les's wedding to Susan in November so a certain amount of catching up occurred: "Did you see those pictures of Les's car after his accident? How was your Christmas? How long were you snowed in? Don't you need a cat? Tell me about your new car. Etc."
Then it was on to: "Do you remember Grandma Lynam having a banjo? Bill Arbuckle told me he remembers her having an old banjo with missing strings." (Neither Ron nor I could remember it.) "Do you remember so and so?" "Did she have a brother Stephen?" About that time our niece, Kristi joined us. "See what old people talk about when they get together?" I asked her. "We talk about stuff that happened when we were young."
I noticed that about my Grandmothers and my Mom as they aged. The summer before my Mom died when she didn't know me and thought I was her older sister, Evelyn, maybe it wasn't the dementia as much as it was her memories. Did I look like Aunt Evelyn? I don't think so. Evelyn was older than Mom. I had moved into the care taking role with Mom. Perhaps it was that juxtaposition that made her think I was her older sister.
I have noticed as I work the daily crossword puzzle that if a clue refers to a song, tv show, actress, geographical location or something from my youth, I will get it almost immediately. Clues referencing more recent trivia take longer for me to identify.
"Memory. All alone in the moonlight, I can smile at the old days; I was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again."