Blog: Retelling It Like It Was

A number of years ago I facilitated a journaling class. It was small in number, with most in their late seventies; people who experienced World War II first hand.

Basically, my role was as a cheerleader, offering formatting options and suggestions concerning paragraphs, grammar, past or present tense, and dialogue.

A few brave souls ventured into down-loading images from scanned photographs. What was most impressive in all was the enthusiasm and sheer output that resulted. Blocks of huge experiences were read aloud, with everyone energized, captivated and inclusive. People who were young at the end of the war have a lot to tell, for our nation was very different then than now.

When sharing memories of that time happened, it truly gave meaning to the term happy hour!

At the time, several close friends were doing diaries, journals and even genealogical research. They had urged me to compile something of my own. It was this journaling group that pushed me at last into the deep water, but more about that in a moment.

Too often people in the silver category of life’s journey feel marginalized. The years of pushing the big rock uphill in regard to family and career concerns are behind, and the media’s unrelenting stridency that marketing ends at age 49 in a land where marketing is everything can be wearisome. Age, too, brings inescapable infirmities and news about others we wished we never heard.

In my view, the key things to consider are, firstly, to treasure what you have, secondly, be active mentally and physically and, thirdly above everything, to remember that gloom is useless. Gloom is a form of death in life.

A journal in any way, shape or form can be a new beginning, whether undertaken alone or as part of a group. All of us have a treasure trove of experiences, each different in our own way. To flip the coin, don’t you think that friends and loved ones would be gypped not to hear? The biggest decision to make is simply to start out. Think small at the outset, try it as a lark and see what happens.

Formatting can be like a cornucopia: a diary, a collection of memoirs, a series of random remembrances, even a kind of stage play where prominent people speak to one another, so long as it’s put down and made concrete. Deciding on a format was my biggest concern.

I chose letters to my two daughters, mostly chronological beginning at age five. Some letters were brief, some large; it didn’t matter. What did was that the letters grew in number like mushrooms in a forest night. As the youngest of seven children, a play began emerging where there were nine lead roles. Fascinating stuff …

Doing your personal remembrances of things past will make you see things in a different light, and probably without fear of memory loss! With a mountain of experiences that have accumulated over the years, there should be little worry over writer’s block. Organization of material is a challenge, but a welcome one, like putting puzzle pieces together.

There is so much to tell: when 12½-inch television screens were the thing, television’s golden age, that first date, that first love, living through the Cuban missile crisis, the advent of FM in the mid-1960s, Vietnam, landing on the moon, the list goes on and on and on. Coming from New York, I never heard of Sweetest Day until I settled here.

Finally, there is a special bonus for those who are paranoid about computers. They might turn out to be friendly tools after all. Imagine the satisfaction of telling your grandchild: “Yes, it’s true, I scanned and downloaded a .jpg file and lived to tell.” 

Endnote: "Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing." — William James