Isn’t it interesting that when your mind wonders or you’re daydreaming you remember things. I recalled sitting at the dining room table where I had shared Sunday dinners with my family growing up.
As I sat at the table, I realized the other three chairs had been tilted forward so that their ladder-backs rested against it. They were obviously no longer of use. And it was then that I remembered what had been bothering me: I was alone. You see, my mom, dad, and younger brother have all passed on without me. They are exploring new worlds and I have been left behind. Heck, even my dog is gone. It was that realization, those memories, which formed the impetus for me to write Life at 12 College Road.
We all have memories—those that make us smile or laugh, others that bring anger or tears, and some that we’d just as soon forget. But those memories help to make us who we are today—and in some ways, who we will become tomorrow.
While reflecting upon my past to write the book, I found that it was not the major earth-shattering events that were truly significant for me. Rather, it was the small things, many long forgotten until recently, that deeply touched me. And if their retelling can help you to connect with similar moments from your own life, then it was worth the time and effort in my writing Life at 12 College Road and your reading it.
Through this writing experience, I have also come to recognize that even in the solitude of writing, we are not really alone. Our memories of loved ones, friends, and those we admire are always with us, some nearer to the surface of sentience than others, but they are there nonetheless.
And if we take the time to listen, they have much to offer.
