Living the Narrative Life by Gian S. Pagnucci is a great reminder that we need to keep our childhood alive. I can't help but want to post a picture of what I remember most fondly about my childhood.
The picture to your left is of my stepfather, Michael, and I. Michael took on the responsibility of raising my siblings and I, with my mother. Every summer we would head down to Long Beach Island where my grandmother and grandfather still currently live. We would be on the beach by ten every morning and stay until four or five in the afternoon.
Anyway, the gist of the Living a Narrative Life is very informative and gives the reader and sense of pushing forward and remembering important aspects of your life. There are so many points I want to write down from this piece: "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting" (Page 71).
"Far more important, I would argue, than our frustrations over distant problems are the real incidents and events that make up our lives: birthday parties, a first kiss, the loss of a loved one, taking a walk in the moonlight. Some of these memories, of course, stay with us forever. But too many fade despite how much we might wish to hold onto them. It's especially easy to see this when on thinks of close friends who have slipped from acquaintance as time and distance have intervened in life. Peoples' names and faces last for a while, but many of the good times slip away. Telling our own stories is one way to hang on to these memories, to preserve the details, to save and treasure things that really mattered to us" (Page 72).
In response to the quote above, there are so many memories I wish I held on to. There are too many times were I was upset and tried to erase someone from my mind, and months later, we were fine again. There is one person in particular I think of when I go to this place, Jeremy. He was one of my best friends. We met at the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show when I was 13 years old. Our mutual friend Mark introduced us. We had our ups and downs and there were times I threw out old pictures because I was upset or didn't talk to him because we had a fight. I look back now and regret every moment of those arguments and every picture I threw away. This October 28th will mark the one year anniversary of Jeremy's death. He was killed in a motorcycle accident less than two months after our mutual friend, Mark (who introduced us), was killed on his motorcycle. Life is too short to throw away those memories. They are important aspects of our lives that we will wish we had held on to when we are ninety.
The picture to your left is of my stepfather, Michael, and I. Michael took on the responsibility of raising my siblings and I, with my mother. Every summer we would head down to Long Beach Island where my grandmother and grandfather still currently live. We would be on the beach by ten every morning and stay until four or five in the afternoon.
Anyway, the gist of the Living a Narrative Life is very informative and gives the reader and sense of pushing forward and remembering important aspects of your life. There are so many points I want to write down from this piece: "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting" (Page 71).
"Far more important, I would argue, than our frustrations over distant problems are the real incidents and events that make up our lives: birthday parties, a first kiss, the loss of a loved one, taking a walk in the moonlight. Some of these memories, of course, stay with us forever. But too many fade despite how much we might wish to hold onto them. It's especially easy to see this when on thinks of close friends who have slipped from acquaintance as time and distance have intervened in life. Peoples' names and faces last for a while, but many of the good times slip away. Telling our own stories is one way to hang on to these memories, to preserve the details, to save and treasure things that really mattered to us" (Page 72).
In response to the quote above, there are so many memories I wish I held on to. There are too many times were I was upset and tried to erase someone from my mind, and months later, we were fine again. There is one person in particular I think of when I go to this place, Jeremy. He was one of my best friends. We met at the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show when I was 13 years old. Our mutual friend Mark introduced us. We had our ups and downs and there were times I threw out old pictures because I was upset or didn't talk to him because we had a fight. I look back now and regret every moment of those arguments and every picture I threw away. This October 28th will mark the one year anniversary of Jeremy's death. He was killed in a motorcycle accident less than two months after our mutual friend, Mark (who introduced us), was killed on his motorcycle. Life is too short to throw away those memories. They are important aspects of our lives that we will wish we had held on to when we are ninety.
Jeremy (Left) and Mark (Right) 11/14/88-10/28/10 and 10/17/88-9/3/10 The memories will always live on.
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