The Good Old Days - It was the best of times and the worst of times, or was it?

 

I had the pleasure of attending and recently joining the genealogy club.  It was the most uplifting group of people, very knowledgeable, positive and fun.  Having this experience seems to have made me even more interested in hearing the stories of other’s Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, and yep, even the stories which start out “back in the day.” I find that I really enjoy discussions about the good old days.  And of course into my brain popped, why this would be a great blog topic for my ramblings. (Grin)

Here’s a memory we can all relate to from the good old days….I remember when snap, crackle and pop were noises I heard from my cereal and not from my body! (Da Dum Dum)

On a more serious note, as those of you who follow me already know, I go on a hunt for what the “experts” have to say on the topic. One expert said nostalgia is good for you, when we reminisce, life feels more meaningful and death less frightening. Well all righty then…I’m not sure I quite agree with that comment. Another said that when there’s so much left to do, why spend your time focusing on things you’ve already done, counting your trophies or telling stories about the good old days?  Hmm, another interesting take but both are too cynical for me.

So I asked myself, as we age do we really obsess too much on the good old days? I don’t think so! I for one don’t think there is anything wrong with nostalgia.  But those all-knowing experts state the opposite side of this nostalgia is that you’re eager or anxious about the future. Humph, stuff and nonsense as my Grandma used to say. (Grin)  I say who doesn’t wish they could live in the past? All curled up in it like a warm blanket, covering all the cold unknowns and unexposed realities of tomorrow.  I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to bury yourself into the glowing warmth of childhood with days of pure joy and limited worries. I remember the comfort of childhood with zero responsibility, so who wouldn’t want to snuggle down in the void of better days and easy living.

Remember those moments of childhood at the park, those days with worries only of ice cream, snack time and after-school playing with friends and television? Those perfect moments of carnival rides, the beach, and Disney movies, absorbing only the purest and most joyous moments of life. Those perfect days followed by perfect nights when nothing went wrong and we were always happy.  Well maybe not always so carefree. I also remember the punishments when you were bad were so much different than today.  I remember the switch, belt or Mom’s hair brush on occasion. To quote Niche: “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.” (Grin)

However, like the unforeseeable future, the past itself is a flawless version of something we want it to be, not what we know as reality. The way we remember memories is constantly distorted. By recalling a memory of the past, you are remembering it as your brain has chosen to distort it, not by the actuality of its events, so say the experts. (Don’t they just suck the life out fun?) (Grin)

Well all that’s fine and good but I must confess, I’m a romantic at heart, which means I love to hear stories of how people met and fell in love. Tales of how they lived and the experiences they had in the roaring 20’s, 30’s and glamorous 40’s.  My Mom told me about rationing during the war, one of her key things being a fashionista, was that stockings were not plentiful. She told me they put make up on their legs and drew a line up the back with an eyebrow pencil to resemble the seam for nylons, pretty inventive. I ruminate there is a distinct difference in listening to stories and using them to put down the present. I think it’s a good thing to write these stories down, to leave something of your experiences and who you were for your future generations.

 Sort of like the Grandfather who’s talking to his grandson, “You know in the good old days, you could go to a store with a quarter, and get a loaf of bread, a dozen eggs, a watermelon, and a brand new bike.  But today, you can’t do that, nope…there’s just way to many surveillance cameras.” (Da Dum Dum)

In conclusion it is this bloggers opinion, the past is as elusive a dream as the future. It is always distorted, always yearned for, and always seen as better days. I lean toward it having a tendency to keep some of us from the truth of the present and the pain of reality.  The good old days are seen as something beautiful, something irrevocable and somewhere that will always be better than where we are now.  But the best thing about the good old days for me is, I wasn’t good and I wasn’t old.  (Grin)

Now don’t start getting annoyed with me, I believe there's nothing wrong with nostalgia, even if the experts say it isn’t really about recalling memories, but is about feelings, about an emotional state. That we actually put an emotional state within an era, or a specific frame, and choose to idealize that specific time. It is safe to say that we all wish we could go back to the past. Nostalgia, like sorrow and happiness, is a universal feeling. It's one that all races, cultures and ages share. We all grow nostalgic for the past.  Nostalgia serves as a somber means for us, as it brings to mind cherished experiences that assure us we are valued people who have meaningful lives. So don't beat yourself up overly much because you sometimes think about good times or even bad times.  The important thing is to not forget that life is still going on around you and you have more experiences ahead and new memories to make.  

And as Buddha said, “The secret of health for both mind and body is to not mourn for the past, not to worry about the future, or not to anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment, wisely and earnestly.” And my personal favorite saying, “Yesterday is a cancelled check, forget it. Tomorrow is a promissory note, don’t count on it. Today is ready cash, USE IT!!”

I thank you again for taking this retirement journey with me, or as I refer to it, “my longest coffee break."  I'm just sayin’…