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Rated: 13+ · Folder · Personal · #2314432
A series of essays attempting honesty, balancing memory, pain, nostalgia, desire, loss.
Memoirs are generally written by famous people, influential people. Memoirs are a collection of memories, anecdotes, and histories that generally tend toward some lesson or thesis. The point is, memoirs have a point.

This, then, is not technically a memoir. What is it, then? A labor of love? No, I can't exactly call it that; many of my memories are unhappy and unpleasant. I would love to forget them, but recalling them here is not about love at all...I don't think. A family history? No, these thoughts and stories and notes are mostly about me, not my family...I think. A journal, then? Well...I guess, maybe.

Probably, this will go unfinished, like most of my other projects. It will almost certainly go unpublished, like ALL my other projects. So if you're reading this, you're probably either an older version of me, or I'm dead, and you've found this in some old notebook or computer file.

I don't have Alzheimer's or dementia or anything like that, but I don't remember a lot of things in my past that clearly. While these passages are related as faithfully as I recall, some things might be skewed or distorted by personal perspective, misunderstanding, or time's inevitable erosion and/or corrosion of memory.

I do a lot of creative writing, and I use a lot metaphor and poeticisms. Sarcasm, cynicism, dark humor--the tools I love to use. In the following pages, I endeavor to write plainly, without tricks or acrobatics. The tone is often melancholy, but that is not a device: it's just the way I am.

As I finish this Preface, just before bed on a beautiful July night, it occurs to me that maybe there IS a point to this project after all, something that might make it worth the effort. Maybe your own memories will come into focus about vivid summers, and hopefully joyous times. And perhaps you'll be reminded how important those times were in bringing you to where you are now--for better or for worse. And if that happens, then I guess this WOULD be a memoir.

For me, The Endless Summer is over. Now all I have, like you perhaps, are Summers I Remember.

Jeffrey Meyer
July, 4, 2022
New Castle, IN
Portfolio -> Summers I Remember
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