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And I mean from what happened at dinner last night to way back to the roads taken, the hearts broken and the debts paid and left outstanding by our billion partial creators. The stories are just as good as anything you could find in a bookstore, but so much more fragile. Grandma's memories are alive in her grandchildren, uncle's sadness is now more understood by his nephews than himself, but time is gnawing all everywhere forever. Just a simple written note can be enough to revive the history in the mind and thus, make it easier to pass down. Of course, perhaps some stories are meant to be eroded; that's for each to decide.
Apr 25, 2024

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they are facing aging alone in a world that is built for the young. they have stories to share and oftentimes no one to share them with. show them grace (remember the world has changed immensely since they were young), and have a cup of tea. i read the my brilliant friend series 6 years ago and a few quotes hit me like a ton of bricks and have been living in the notes app since then: "the world has changed tremendously and belongs more and more to them, less and less to me..." "Now I was distressed that nothing of me would endure through time..." "Unlike stories, real life, when it has passed, inclined towards obscurity, not clarity."
Feb 12, 2025
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Because these are the moments I cherish most in life, and they feel so integrated into who I am that it’s hard to recall them individually… * Going to reclaimed lumber yards, architectural salvage shops, quarries, plant nurseries, and the DUMP with my dad in his bright red '90s GMC Sierra. * Going to the alpaca farm with my family and seeing my mom get her hair eaten by a camel (see below photo which is a picture of a picture of our ancient family dome iMac—my dad managed to immortalize this moment forever. I’m the one with the denim hat). * Snow in the desert… almost never happened, but when it did, it was a big deal, so it’s still special to me every time I see snow living up north. * Every moment I spent with my dearly departed childhood pets and my own three pets that have passed. I feel lucky to have documented my time with my pets so thoroughly, so I can look back and remember every little moment. * Going to my grandparents’ house on the lake in the DFW area for Christmas. Before my grandmother developed dementia, she had a distant, chilly WASPish demeanor but showed her love through her homemaking. They had a beautiful home with the most relaxing and cozy atmosphere. I loved waking up early with her and my grandfather before everybody else, pouring a cup of freshly percolated coffee, and sitting in the sunroom reading the Dallas Morning News as the sun came up. The ticking of their clocks and the sounds of them puttering around in the kitchen, starting some elaborate breakfast, put me at ease. I had a very complicated relationship with my grandfather, to say the least (which you can read about in the attached link—I tried to embed it in this parenthetical but the link window is broken), but their house gave me a feeling of being home that I never had anywhere else.
Nov 28, 2024
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Real or imagined. A pal of mine passed recently and I’d written a little story about him being a lovable menace and it’s so lovely to look over the memory without it being tainted. Just a solid memory of him being exactly how he was
Mar 12, 2024

Top Recs from @capnhahab

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Underwear, soap, sunblock, sheets; if you're putting up a barrier between the physical you and the oh-so-hazardous world then, if possible, have it be the most effective barrier it can be.
May 15, 2024
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Receiving is giving too. Also, there's quite a high chance you deserve to be complimented.
Apr 26, 2024
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Why do they hide so much history within them? Why does that past come out in most unprompted ways? Why is the pizza line at Costco essential for me to learn my grandfather's name was Salvador, that dad was buddies with famous luchadores, or that he is casual friends with many a notable playwright? I hope it's not the feeling that I'd be uninterested; I certainly am. His storytelling is so casual, so carefree. Maybe he likes the old days to be the old days and his place to be in the now, and his way of keeping the past at bay is to scarcely visit it, to give nostalgia no special regard. Perhaps he likes the chance to be mysterious, and he very much is in these moments. It's strange for there to be mystery between us, but that's unavoidable, I guess. I try not to take it as a barrier. We are mysteries even to ourselves; it's an unjustly tall order to make ourselves crystal clear for others, even our children, perhaps. Whatever it is, I treasure each pearl of the weird history, the places he has been and the trouble he got into. He was and still is that young man just as I hope to still be who I am today, even if in bite-sized, shocking portions.
Apr 29, 2024