Monday, October 27, 2008
Forever In My Mind – Maybe – What’s In A Title?
It’s elementary my dear Watson. Several people have asked me why I chose to name my BLOG what I did. They found it unusual, yet somehow strangely interesting as one reader told me. At the time I decided to do the BLOG I was at a cross roads in my life. I had the realization that where I was wasn’t where I wanted to be. I also made the realization that although I was happy I wanted change and I was on the road to making those changes. I had started that back in the fall of the previous year. Life altering changes though don’t come over night and sometimes take years to see out and carry through. One thing that happens when you find yourself at a cross roads though is that you start thinking about all the things you’ve done, places you’ve been, people you’ve known and things you’ve seen. You go through your memories in search of that which may help you interpret your life and where it is and how to get it where you want it to be. No wax on wax off at this point. I’m not trying to be deep, but it might go there. One memory that is vivid in my life is of Mr. & Mrs. Mathias. Devon and Amy were their first names, but I didn’t ever dare call them that. Mr. Mathias was a seventh grade history professor at Kekionga Middle School when my brother and I first met him. He truly is and was a soul that wanted to help children not only with their school, but also to better himself or herself as human being’s. One of his favorite past times was listening to Paul Harvey on the radio and another gardening. The year my brother was in his class Mr. Mathias took him in under his wing and mentored my brother somewhat. It was a friendship in the making that lasted until the last year. My brother would go over to the Mathias home and mow the lawn, help with gardening and do various chores. Soon afterwards I started helping Mrs. Mathias by doing vacuuming and other house chores as well. At the time we were doing it I thought very little about the fact that these two people really didn’t need our help. They were simply trying to provide lessons in life on earning a dollar and living honest. Amy was a more “proper” type of person who expected the napkin in the correct place and the proper foods for ones diet to be eaten. I liked her but I really wasn’t fond of the foods she would fix. No pre-teen or teen child really cares for clam chowder. Least not any teen I knew of liked clam chowder. Amy passed away this past year and my brother and I went to her funeral. They asked members to share memories of her, but there were none that stood out as something I needed to share. I kept thinking of how many I had of him though. One of my favorites is of the many times Amy would be off all day, either at her school (Pleasant Center I believe) or shopping. I never really knew where she was. She would leave a pre-made meal for Mr. Mathias to warm up. It wasn’t food I looked forward to, but then again no one said they had to feed us either so I guess I should just have been thankful. What Amy didn’t know was that Mr. Mathias was very in-tune with the kids. He would often throw out the pre-made food and make hamburgers or hot dogs or chili for us. He would always wink and say: “Don’t tell Amy.” I honestly believe he tried to see the good in everyone and he often found the good he was looking for. This couple truly loved each other too. Mr. Mathias worshipped the ground Amy walked on you could tell when you were around them. I guess I really shouldn’t speak of him in past tense. He’s not dead, not really. He’s still here for the time, but yet unreachable. You see a few years back Amy was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. What an awful disease that is. I went to see the Mathias at the Winchester home about five or six years back. Amy was talking to me at that time, but she couldn’t remember how many children and grandchildren she had. She asked permission of her husband to use a walking stick to help her walk. As he reminded her of how many children and grand children they had you could see the look of fear on her face. Knowing she should know that, but not knowing all at the same time. When we went to the funeral we were shocked to find out that Mr. Mathias, Devon now has the disease as well. Can you imagine being those poor boys of theirs and having to live through the same thing with both parents? Parents that slowly forget who you even are. He didn’t recognize who I was or my brother either one and he’s known us and been well involved in our lives for more than thirty years. I could read the pain on my brother’s face when Mr. Mathias didn’t know him. They had been close on a level that wasn’t an everyday thing but I think a mutual understanding of admiration. I’m sure there was regret for not having been in touch more. That is life though. We all get busy and caught up and we forget how precious life is and how quickly it goes by. We all do it. It was obvious though that the disease had not robbed him yet of his love for his precious Amy. He still had that, but for how long. We go through life with so very few things we can count on. I believe most of us count on having our memories at our disposal. We count on being able to look back on days gone by fondly in our time of need. So when I was trying to come up with a name for my BLOG I thought the things I write about are things I will remember forever and look back on, or will I? They are things I hope I can hold on to. Things I hope I can remember, but we aren’t promised that which we take so easily for granted. We are not guaranteed that we’ll remember the past. We are not guaranteed we will remember the good times or the people we’ve shared them with. So I cherish each day as it comes. It doesn’t matter if I feel good or bad I thank the good Lord for each day and I go through each day realizing that it may not be there tomorrow either in my mind or in reality. So these are the things that will be forever in my mind, maybe, if old man time doesn’t take them away from me. If they don’t get lost in the fog of what was. So there you have it. The story of a name for my memories, my thoughts, my hopes and fears that I share with those who chose to read them.