A good friend's father reunites with his military friends regularly. They are getting old now and its harder to get together, but the trip becomes that much more memorable, meaningful, insightful. The longer time stretches over an event, a time in one's life, it receives more color, rises more distinctly from the mundane. Our perceptions of what matter may change but we hold tight to how these perceptions continue to affect us.
The old friends of the Hoover Dam may have insisted on calling the dam Boulder. As if the name gives meaning to the experience as much as all the work that was accomplished together. When they use the words "old friend" and look into each other's eyes, do they see the fella that high scaled seven hundred feet above the canyon? Do they remember sitting across the table from their buddy as he devoured another pork chop or biscuit? What is recorded is a feeling for a time they know not to forget. And how do they "know" such things?
How do we recognize what needs remembering? We recognize it by the medium that is its result. Job sites will do this, especially ones in which hold so much wonder, like this dam does. It becomes a medium for which we set our memories upon. As a good friend, offering up sincere messages for the future, universal for all to learn from.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
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