Michael Peter Smith wrote a beautiful song in 1968 titled “The Dutchman.”  I recently discovered it. It haunts me, this story of a man who has lost his memories and realities. I have come to love the song because it speaks to me of how others love us no matter how much or little we remember. Key to all this is that memories are often held together with love so that they are accessible over time.

Long ago, I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me

The song revolves around those two lines that are in the refrain. The song has been covered by a wide range of musicians, each bringing a different flavor to loving, nostalgic recipe of the lyrics. Watching the New Kingston Trio perform the song with Bob Shane singing with the aid of a canula somehow ties the messages of aging and patience ever more tightly. This is not a song review; it is a reminder of love and the importance of stories shared and remembered.

Find a way to move memories forward in time:  write stories, send letters, create lyrics and songs, accompany photographs with recollections, share stories with family members and loved ones. Don’t be too quick to throw away what you have created or what you have received. Remember letters held together by adhesive tape? Love has a way of holding together those things that are not on paper.

No one has perfect recall, making the preserving and sharing of stories and memories all the more interesting. After I published my book Daddin’:  The Verb of Being a Dad, my oldest son pointed out a correction to a story shared in the book. I am sure his correction was valid because the particular story was about him in college. I am sure that as I get older, more and more of my memories will need “editorial adjustments” delivered with love, not judgment.

So it is for all of us. Our memories are not perfect, neither the ones we hold nor those we feel to correct of others. At some point, those memories may disappear or become something that never really was.  And that’s okay, because the mortar that can, and should, hold together all memories is love; of all the things we can forget, let’s not let that be one of them.

My mom would occasionally use an expression that caught my attention from my early teen years on. That was a long time ago, but I’ve never forgotten it. “I once was what you are now.” Perhaps it was observations like this and the fact that my parents were “older” by the time I arrived as a surprise; dad was 43 and mom was almost 40.

I have always been fascinated by the “growing older” process. “Puff the Magic Dragon” always saddened me because of the changes in the friendship described in the lyrics. When my friend, Brian, drowned when we were 19, I could no longer listen to the song. Innocence lost. It was 35 years before I listened to it again; growing older and its subsequent changes to life have intrigued me, while also producing a bit of melancholy.

The next phase to mom’s phrase is “You will be what I am now.” Older people were once young; young people will become old. Life is a continuum.

A high school friend and I were sharing emails about our parents a few days ago. I shared with him a poem that I wrote in 1972, influenced by Neil Young’s song, “Old Man.” My poem, also titled “Old Man,” has six stanzas, the first two are:

Old man can you manage

With that cane in your hand?

Can you continue watching

The dropping of the sand?

Do memories plague you

Of the days in the street?

Do memories haunt you

Of the people you did meet?

My dad was 59 when I showed the poem to him; he cried. I read it now, at 66, with different eyes. I have become what he was then, plus some.

 Young gain wisdom from the old; old tap into energy from the young. Life is a continuum. Don’t forget from when you came and look forward with hope to where you’re going.

I just came in from watering. The temperature is 109, but the heat index is only 112, four degrees lower than forecast. Ya gotta love the small favors.

Grumbling about heat is a common occurrence in these parts, and rightfully so. There are opportunities with this heat; they sure beat grumbling and getting grouchy.

Read a book; write a book; sew or quilt; slow dance with your special other in the living room; drink sweet tea; eat watermelon; get up early to enjoy tolerable temperatures at the time the birds are waking up; write some letters using pen and paper; sit in front of a box fan and get lost in the white noise and the sensation of the breeze in your hair; go outside for 15 minutes of Vitamin D and get a healthy sweat going; paint; play an instrument; listen to some music from your youthful days; call someone you haven’t talked to in too long; experiment – try to cook an egg on the sidewalk; nap; read a book to your kids or grandkids; have a call (video or phone) with friends or family; put together a jigsaw puzzle; learn to play chess (or something else you don’t know how to do yet)…and so on.

Yeah, it is hotter than the hinges of the gates of Hades, but there are opportunities because of it. Enjoy! 

More than 25 years ago a retired banker gave me a copy of a book he had written. I forgot the title, but the premise was that no one had ever told him he would be in sales, and the fact is that everyone is. Everyone tries to persuade, inspire or motivate others to make a “purchase” with their funds, time, judgement or support.

I recently had a conversation with a young salesman who closed an important deal. I asked him how it was that he was able to make it happen when his employer had had the client engaged for quite some time. The young man’s answer says a lot about all sales and human relations.  He admitted that he could have completed the deal earlier, but he wanted to wait until the client was totally comfortable with the deal and had complete trust in the company to deliver. The salesman was patient enough and unselfish enough to make things right for the client instead of pushing hard to score the success for himself.

His story got me to thinking about how people handle the process of trying to convince/sell/motivate others to buy what is being sold, decide in a way the “seller” deems appropriate, agree with the position of the seller, and so on.  Whether we are selling widgets or services, the idea of where to go on vacation, the decision of where to go on a date or agreeing to accept our proposal (whether one delivered on paper or on bended knee)…no matter what we’re selling – trying to get others to buy, accept or agree with – it serves everyone well to be patient while looking at the process as a very human interaction.

More than 17 years ago, I wrote an article about six tips about sales learned from a shoeshine man. I adapted the lessons to fundraising, too. In that experience, I ended up buying something that I had never purchased before at a time when I was not shopping (at all, much less for what he was selling) and I ended up paying more than originally quoted while enjoying the entire process.  How did that happen? The transaction was monetary; the interaction was human.

The young salesman told me that he learned a lot about the client over the time; their life experiences had many similarities, understanding of which made their connection stronger. No matter what we do, it is people oriented. Be patient; connect; empathize; understand. Never confuse transaction with interaction.