Memories:Sanity in dream form

I have revisited an old memory.
Funny, but it is a song called Memories, by Mac Davis. Here are the words to Memories:

Memories
Pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories
Sweetened thru the ages just like wine
Quiet thoughts come floating down
And settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves around my feet
I touched them and they burst apart with Sweet memories
Sweet memories
Of lollypops and red bouquets,
and twilight trimmed in purple haze
and laughing eyes and simple ways
and quiet nights and gentle days with you.
Memories
I cling to them and tremble til the dawn
My memories are all that I have left now that you’re gone
Oh what would I do without my sweet memories?
Sweet memories
Of lollypops and red bouquets and twilight trimmed in purple haze.
And laughing eyes and simple ways
And quiet nights and gentle days with you
Memories
Sadly fragrant flowers turning brown
Memories
Soft and distant showers coming down
Coming down
Sweet memories
Memories
Memories
Sweet memories

Remarkably eloquent no?

For some reason, I am reminded of the Schwarzenegger movie "Total Recall". I've never actually seen the movie, but I know it's about a company that sells "virtual vacations", where you can pay a fee and have the memories of a great vacation in some exotic place implanted in your mind. The thing is, after a vacation is over, all you have are the memories of it anyway, so this way you can get the memories without any of the risk or cost of actually doing the thing. You can't tell the difference once it's over. You think you did it. You remember doing it.

I've always been intrigued by that idea. That all we really have -- in fact, maybe all we really are is memories.

When I was a child I played baseball with Satler’s Auto Electric. I was the catcher by default. No one else would catch for Craig Blood, his pitches hurt. My father encouraged me to take the task even though my chubby little hands could not close the thick heavy catchers glove, so I used just a standard base glove. My hand was swollen with the punishment. This may seem like a bad memory, but it gave me my only claim to sports fame. Satler’s Auto Electric won first place with an undefeated season. I was part of a bigger thing though, and I learned a value: sometimes the value of the experience is worth the pain.

True, but sometimes it seems like it's not.

Memories…
Like the time when Idaho froze up to 23 below. The pipes in our house froze. When I woke up in the middle of the night thirsty I was desperate for a drink of water so barefooted I jumped out into the frozen snowy landscape scooped up some of the white refreshment brought it inside and put it on the stove to thaw. I remember how long it took for the flames to thaw that snow. I remember the water I drank was still very cold and refreshing. I went back to bed not learning a thing, just contented at my slaked thirst. Memories seem to be good for contentment at a later date also.

Sometimes good memories can make you sad though. Good memories of a loved-one that's passed on, for example. Sometimes dwelling on memories makes me feel sorta sad and pathetic, like my best times are already past, and I don't have anything to look forward to.

Memories…
Of the first time my adorable wife looked at me with the soft eyes of love. It is burned into my skull and will surface to the forefront of my mind when she is less than cordial. (An understandable side effect of knowing a clod like me). Memories are good for peace in life.

I think I understand. When your wife is not happy with you, you just imagine a time when she was and respond to that. I'll have to try it:

Molly: "Tim, you lazy, shiftless bum, get off your butt and help me with the housework!"
Tim (with eyes glazed over and a wistful smile): "I love you too, honey. Will you marry me?"

Memories…
They can be used like clubs, with memories an individual can pummel the soul of another person into the fetal position. There is a cliché type of illustration of this: When a son wishes to do something that a controlling mother wishes him not to do, the mother may something like “I was in labor with you for 28 hours and you are going to treat me like that?” I think this is just wrong, it is the antithesis to the pain–experience value lesson mentioned above.

I've never known a mother to actually say that, except in sit-coms on TV. I hope they never do.

Memories…
Of friends who have strayed away from a sane life to find a tawdry adventure somewhere else where you could not follow. Memories are the ground on which an upright person stands.

Like your memories of me, perhaps? Heh heh heh

Memories have a way of making a life solid. Stiffens your backbone. Helps you appreciate those around you. Blows away the anxiety and warms the corners of your heart.

Live in the past on occasion.

Sounds like advice one might expect to recieve from the Guardian of Forever.

Memories: sanity in dream form.