Why is it that the majority of cherished memories are those involving groups of people as opposed to those of singularity? Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps other people have favorite instances of years passed that involve just themselves. For me though, this conjecture still rings true. But why could this be? Am I simply too dependent on others for indelible happiness? Or is the act of “making memories” somehow linked to bonds between humans (meaning it takes two to make a meaningful tango)?

Looking back on the past few years (as I do, perhaps too often), I cannot seem to find one memory that excludes the presence of others. Sure, there are things I remember doing solo that make me nostalgic, such as walking the streets of London on a summer evening or sitting on the porch at sunset in Norwood, Ohio with no money for dinner but pipe in hand. However, these are not the same as what I would define “great memories” as being. They allow me to reminisce about the past, but are not the truly magnificent ones that I will remember vividly when I’m 80.

I might as well be splitting hairs by attempting to categorize classes of memories. I might even be full of hot air for thinking that the idea of this could be a generalization rather than something solely specific to me…maybe I’m just not adventurous by myself and thus am not creating lasting memories as such. Nonetheless, it’s still true. My best memories are all populated by my friends and by my wife (who is also included in the prior category). Time might even show that Jonas ends up in this tier of elite persons (but based on his behavior this morning, I see nothing of him worth remembering from February 20, 2007).

Something to mull about on a future commute to work, I suppose.