Why do we remember horrible moments in history or in our lives? Why don’t we just move forward from such times rather than thinking of them over and over again? What is the point of reopening wounds? What do we hope to get out of telling our children about people or events that seemingly have little meaning for them? Why do we relive the painful times of our past?

I know that many people are quite stoic about the horrors of life that come their way. They believe that it does little good to keep talking or worrying about things over which they have no control. For them life happens and they deal with it. Then it is time to move on and never look back. They may have learned from the situation but they see little point in analyzing or even remembering the most difficult times of history. 

I suppose that there is some merit in bravely moving forward while never looking back. I think that people like me do in fact sometimes over analyze and talk about situations to the point of appearing to be obsessed. I have learned that my thinking out loud about the ways we humans have interacted with each other and the world is tedious for some of my fellow travelers. I know that I often over think things and latch on to concerns that I will never be able to fully tackle. I am an observer, thinker and planner by nature. I have the ability to see aspects of the past, present and future as an unbroken thread that connects us all. Much of what is happening today or will happen tomorrow depends on what has happened in the past. 

I become pensive at the beginning of each summer because I never fail to think upon my father’s death in the long ago. It’s been sixty three years since his passing but he feels as much alive today as he did back then. I no longer fret over the might have beens had he lived, but I honor the memory of the man that he was. Somehow his spirit has managed to impact me year after year because my mother kept him alive as she openly and lovingly reminded me and my brothers of the kind of person he was.

I was lucky enough to vividly recall the essence of my father so I know that my mother did not exaggerate his tremendous effect on our family. My aunts and uncles and cousins reiterated their own admiration and even awe for him. Even as he was dead and gone he seemed sometimes alive, most especially at this time of year when I think back to the day of his death which is etched so clearly in my mind. 

I knew on that day of long ago how loved I was. My extended family encircled me and my mother and brothers and never dwindled their devotion to us until the days when they died. Our parish priest demonstrated the kindness of a truly Christian person when he visited us in our grief. So too did so many people of my faith who watched over our little family and continue their vigilance to this very day. My father’s music and books and papers that he had written told me what I needed to know about him. I also learned from him the importance of studying history and analyzing both its goodness and its evil. I remember him passionately discussing such things with my grandfather and with his friends. A cousin told me that he also dialogued with him.  

I was taught by my father and my mother and my teachers to remember and to think. My education into adulthood was influenced by the questions that the adults posed to me. I honored the past efforts of humanity while also understanding that I did not diminish their worth by taking note of the mistakes that they made as well. Just as I was taught to do, I have spent my life analyzing situations, sometimes admittedly obsessively, but always with the intent to do better, to be better. 

One of the last conversations that I had with my father was a difficult one. He had noticed that I was slacking off, not focusing my full attention on learning. He challenged me to focus on the joy of making a concerted effort to improve myself. He urged me to read often and to contemplate the world from differing points of view. His advice to eight year old me was very adult, but I totally understood what he was trying to convey. I knew that I was not fully appreciating the freedom and joy that comes from learning in the ways that he did. I would take his lecture to heart and become curious for the rest of my life. 

I find so much pleasure in evolving through continuous education. I ask many questions and seek answers daily. It is not a tiresome or frightening experience but one that is incredibly gratifying. I look at the past and realize how humans have stared into the universe with wonder from the beginning of time. I know that looking back is fine and even important because we learn from what people have tried before. Nonetheless. ultimately our goal is to remember while moving ever forward.