Memoir
/ˈmemˌwär/ noun. a record of events written by a person having intimate knowledge of them and based on personal observation. Usually memoirs. an account of one's personal life and experiences; autobiography. the published record of the proceedings of a group or organization, as of a learned society.
The Greek philosopher Heraclitus was quoted as saying "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man." As we get older we realize just how true this quote is. People change, life changes. Friendships don’t always last a lifetime and despite sentimental feelings, there are often good reasons why. This prompt explores that particular fact of life and I’m looking forward to hearing more about how it’s impacted you.
Memoir Monday has grown so much that I won’t be able to comment on everyone’s posts anymore (and get my own work done) but I’ll still be supporting your posts with reblogs, votes, and shares on my other social media accounts (X, Facebook, etc.).
For all of those who’ve regularly participated in Memoir Monday - keep going, you’re making great progress in chronicling your very own life story for future generations to enjoy.
For those who missed the inaugural post explaining what the Memoir Monday initiative is all about you can find it here.
Now for next week’s Memoir Monday prompt:
Who is someone you’ve lost touch with but think about often, and what impact did they have on your life?
My answer:
My friendship with Matt began in the most unlikely of ways. I was an awkward, bookish fifth grader riding the bus to Fair Avenue Elementary in Columbus, Ohio. Matt, on the other hand, was one of the “cool kids.” He exuded that effortless confidence that made him seem older than the rest of us—a kid who already knew how to command a room.
Matt was also a notorious bully. He loved picking on kids, and one day, I became his target. As we boarded the bus, he bumped into me, then blamed me for it, shoving me into my seat. I ignored him, hoping it would end there, but it didn’t. From that day forward, Matt zeroed in on me. He taunted me on the playground, shoved me in passing, and demanded, “Say I can kick your @ss!” I refused every time. Maybe my lack of reaction bored him, or maybe my quiet defiance earned his respect. Either way, he eventually moved on.
Fast forward to eighth grade, and somehow, we became friends. Hip-hop was just beginning to make waves in the Midwest, and both of us were drawn to it. We bought DJ equipment, made mixtapes, and bonded over breakdancing and graffiti—what they now call street art. I was still nerdy; Matt was still effortlessly popular. But there we were, spending hours at each other’s houses, practicing DJ sets and sketching designs. I couldn’t believe it: one of the “cool kids” actually wanted to hang out with me.
Our teenage years flew by in a blur of firsts. First sips of alcohol, first brushes with marijuana, first real girlfriends, first summer jobs, first cars. Matt’s home life was very different from mine. Raised by a single mother and two older sisters, he was doted on and given freedoms most of us could only dream of. His dad had left when he was young, and Matt’s mom seemed to overcompensate with material gifts and little discipline. Together, we rushed blindly into adulthood.
By junior year, our lives began to diverge. We both started dating girls from different parts of town and spent less time together. Matt began drinking heavily and experimenting with harder drugs. When we did hang out, his focus seemed to revolve around getting inebriated. Meanwhile, I was starting to think seriously about my future. Our paths, once parallel, were starting to split.
After high school, the gap between us widened. I got a full-time job and later enrolled in college in 1990. Matt, meanwhile, got his girlfriend pregnant and married young. We still hung out occasionally, usually for a night of drinking in the Brewery District or a round of pool. But by 1995, I moved to Minnesota to start a new chapter, and our sporadic meetups faded into even more sporadic phone calls.
Over the past three decades, Matt and I have drifted further apart. While I worked to build a stable life, Matt spiraled. He’s battled homelessness, drug addiction, and stints in jail. He’s been married and divorced multiple times. Recently, we reconnected on a video call—the first in over a decade—and I barely recognized the man on the screen. His face was weathered, his voice gravelly and harsh. He still seemed stuck in the habits of our youth: partying, fighting, and brushing off responsibility. He looked decades older than his age, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of grief for the friend I once knew.
My mom recently shared a memory from our elementary school days. She recalled a moment when I was on stage receiving an honor roll award. She noticed Matt in the audience, watching my family with tears in his eyes. “He looked envious,” she said, “like he wished he had that kind of family and support.” I was floored by the irony. At the time, I had been envious of him—his popularity, his confidence, the way he seemed to have life all figured out.
I still think about our friendship and the bond we shared. We were like brothers for much of our teenage and young adult years. The Matt I knew back then was smart and funny, full of life and potential, someone I admired and, in many ways, envied. But after that recent video call, it was clear: that Matt is gone. Our lives could have easily turned out the same, but fate had other plans. I’m grateful for the friendship we had, even as I mourn the person he might have been.
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I had a number of bullies when I was younger, but only a few of them ended up being friends to me later on. You can tell when I bring it up to them they are quite embarrassed. That's too bad about your friend. I definitely have people I have fallen out of touch with, but I don't know as though I think about them often. More like occasionally if I had to guess.
It seems the bully/victim pattern replays itself generation after generation. It's no fun when you're on the receiving end of it, as a child. I've noticed the bullies' lives tend to peak in their younger years but the victims usually go on to experience greater things in life as they get older. I'm sure that's not always the case but seems to happen more often than not.
Yeah, that definitely seems to be the case. I guess I don't know specifically with mine. I haven't even thought about them in years!
So mamy people come and go in our daily life. But for some reason we get attached to someone whom we feel special, such seems to be Matt. Hope you get him back as your old jovial friend. Upbrinong is one of the important part in moulding a child's character. Somewhere it failed in Matt's case, that was evident while he watched you in stage with tears in his eyes.
So true! I'm in touch with Matt's son and he has made some strides this year to get himself sober but that will be a struggle he fights for the remainder of his days. I wish him the very best, I really do. Somewhere inside of him the person I knew still survives.
Yeah, people come in and out of our life. My childhood best friend from Kharkov, Ukraine I don't have contact with anymore, too many years and moving to America tend to do that. I did catch up with him in 2008 in Ukraine when I visited last time, but since then we lost touch.
It's tough. As someone who moved almost a thousand miles from where I grew up I've learned that geographic distance makes maintaining friendships a lot of work. It requires real effort. I've done that with my family but very few of my old friendships have survived.
goosebumps reading that. Must be sad to look back and think what he could've had - it's not nothing to have that confidence and charm so young. What a shame...
It is a shame. He had everything. He was so talented and funny, a natural leader. He excelled at almost everything he attempted but, I believe, his lack of genuine confidence is what made him lean into drugs and alcohol. Those last few times we went out in '93/'94 I noticed he'd already been drinking when I picked him up. I had no way of knowing how bad it had actually gotten though. When we were out he'd get completely hammered and want to start fights with strangers. By my early twenties that kind of behavior had lost its luster.
I never suffered from bulling, and I even believe that I was always the mean one, however, it was a thing of young students, of teenagers with nothing to do. It's a pity that your friend, with so much talent, has remained in that stage of “camorrero”, of rebel without a cause. You know, I have seen that many people stay in the stages where they felt they were taken into account, hence people who stay with the same style, the same behavior, the same work, because they feel they would be ignored if they did something else. As I was reading, I remembered someone, so I know who to talk about on Monday. A nice Tuesday, Eric. Hugs
I'm glad you were never bullied! I didn't have a huge problem with it, only a few times before my teenage years. It's very sad to witness someone "stuck" in life but most often you have to come to the realization that no one can really save them except themselves. That's a very important lesson in life. I'm looking forward to reading your contribution! Thanks Nancy and enjoy your week!
It's so unfortunate about how life has turned out for your friend Matt but that's how life turns out sometimes.
Yes, I find myself reminiscing about our old memories quite a bit.
I like this quote. It describes how the nature and universe runs.
This is what alcohol and drugs are doing in long term.
Recently I started to see this with multiple people in the cave/tent living community.
They drink a lot of alcohol, and they regularly take various drugs.
The whole cave/tent living community changed a lot in the previous six months.
It's so sad when substance abuse takes hold of someone. It seems seductively harmless at first but then before they know it they lose control of their own lives as the addiction takes presidence over everything and they spiral deeper down the dark path.
The topic is quite interesting and I will definitely make my own post about it for some days and our knowledge increases a lot when people post here.
At times we are envied of people just by looking at what they have. We miss out on what they don't have.
The family support and bonding is of crucial importance in making us a useful human being.
I can understand the pain that panged in your heart looking at the miserable condition of your friend. But that's how life is.