Objects in the Rear View Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are
That song by Meatloaf often haunts me these days. My mother is 80, and it is obvious that now it is the memories of long ago that seem closer than they are, than the most recent. She remembers her childhood and youth very clearly, but has to be constantly reminded of things that happened just weeks ago. It isn’t Alzheimers, thank Heavens, but as her doctor has gently pointed out, a natural occurrence that my husband calls `Oldtimers’.
I haven’t noticed it yet – the events of long ago still seem long ago to me. My rear view mirror still reflects events that seem a respectable distance away. But sometimes a deep sense of nostalgia overcomes me for the world as it used to be, and I can smell the scents of an English spring as vividly as if were closer than it appears. Perhaps as I get older, those objects will seem closer. I am not sure if I am looking forward to it – is it simply the natural progression of a mind overfull with stimuli, or is it an escape from a world that becomes harder to fathom, so many are the changes?
What I do have are moments that I recall with piercing vividness – a walk on a Guernsey beach, bluebells filling a wood, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot. Sensory things can stimulate a memory – the smell of tangerines (which I have learned to call mandarins now I live in Australia) which always brings back one particular snowy Christmas. This was the only time of year you buy tangerines in Britain, as their season overseas occurred during our winter. They were each wrapped in silver paper and sold singly – very expensively, too, so we could only afford them as a Christmas treat. Breaking open a tangerine releases that unique sweet scent which takes me right back to a Christmas when my parents were broke and it looked as if we wouldn’t get Christmas dinner that year. But then my father got a salary advance, and I set out with mum to the local market. There she bought a turkey with all the trimming, vegetables and tangerines. On Christmas morning there was one in my stocking as always and I broke it open, and breathed in that lovely, once a year smell.
Memories from childhood are precious – but memories from my children’s childhood are even more precious to me now. I suspect those are the memories I will recall most often as I grow older. My childhood gave me few companions my own age and the company of adults rarely brought bright moments – only those adults who were children at heart. But when I had my own children, I found myself with all the companionship I had missed – their games, their laughter, their beauty filled my life as nothing else had.
All my rear view mirror shows me now is how quickly those years sped away and how far we have all traveled since I held those lovely children in my arms. If the mirror brings them closer again, then maybe a change in perspective won’t be so bad,
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Lovely to see the mirror working. Makes me think of the Lady of Shalott for some reason.
I know the song you are talking about! I have that CD and listen to the song regularly.
The song that expresses that feeling in me is “Time Stand Still”, one I understand far better in my late 40’s than I did in my late 20’s.
Thank you for reminding me of that song sweetie.
I like your mother am very old but could only wish that my memories of the busy busy days of my children’s childhood could be as clearly recalled as the quieter days of my own early places. In middle life we can have so many distractions, career, finances, teen-agers, plans, husbands, mothers that the particular bits and pieces tend to coagulate into a big picture while the earlier days are like a series of paintings we can veiw piece by piece.
Your story of the tangerines, part of my Canadian childhood, called as a rule “Japanese oranges” and wrapped in orange tissue in lovely little wooden boxes came to us as yours did only at Christmas. How we loved the taste and the tiny skins that came off so readily, oranges meant to be shared with a best friend, piece by sweet piece. How it amazed me when I was first in Brisbane to find the mandarins scattered untouched under the trees. These larger fruits seemed not quite so sweet as the tiny ones of long ago but how wonderful in their abundance. Thank you for a great story, Fran
that Meatloaf song is a favourite of mine too. How sweet the memories of tangerines at Christmas. They are still a part of my Christmases too - tangerines and Brazil nuts in the fruitbowl. How I wish I was able to remember so much more of my past than I seem to be able to and time passes so quickly for me now.