Memories are triggered by so many unexpected things. All the senses, as we know, come into play. And memory seems to be something that I write about often enough. Today, on my walk, I saw a house that is for sale. The odd thing is that I’ve passed the house before, with the sign up, but I didn’t remember the incident that happened with that particular house before today.
This I can’t explain. Was I thinking about other things the other days? Was I talking with someone and that blocked the memory? That’s certainly probable some of the times.
But still, for whatever reason, today I remembered how our youngest got into a bit of trouble while in junior high? High school? That I don’t remember exactly; but the incident remains and it was pretty significant.
There’s an old shed behind this particular house. It’s next to the house of a buddy of my son’s. One day, the gang (this son, for whatever reason, went around with his buddies in a group; I’d be afraid to call it a gang if they were inner-city, but they’re not) used that shed and its windows as target practice.
Not guns, chas v’shalom, but rocks.
And now I don’t recall all the details; I do remember the emotional impact; they got into trouble. That was a good thing. They were called into the police station and they were supposed to do community service. It was going to be a very big deal. I think it worked to scare them, but not really enough.
You see, the police never followed through. They were supposed to call us to get something going, but it never happened. I don’t remember any of the other details at all. But I do remember thinking that I was furious at my kid, then I felt guilty, and then I was frustrated that there was no follow-up.
But I certainly didn’t bring it to their attention, either.
Maybe, looking back at things, I should have.
What would you have done?