An embarrassing story about how sometime the things that we remember aren't the same as the things that others do.
Sliding Doors
Sliding Doors
Not long after I met my wife, I found myself outside Paris, having a meal with her parents on the rear terrace of their home.
Once we finished eating, and the plates were cleared, we headed inside. I pulled on their sliding door to try close it.
It was an unusual door. First you slid it almost into place, before simultaneously lifting the door and the handle to lock it into place.
The first part, the sliding, went well.
The second part, the lifting and locking, did not.
The door jammed, still slightly open.
I tried to unfix it, but to no avail. My in-laws came back from the kitchen and also tried.
No luck.
This was terrible because, along with my wife, we were all leaving the following morning for holidays in the south of France.
That door had to remain wedged open the whole time we were away! It was a moment of shame and embarassment for me. Even though my in laws came to laugh about it over time, I'd felt absolutely terrible.
But something happened today that I wasn't expecting.
After eating at the same table, my daughter went to the door to close it.
"DON'T TOUCH THE DOOR!" I jumped to my feet.
Everyone froze. My daughter. My in-laws. Everyone.
I must admit I wasn't expecting their confused expressions.
"Don't you remember how I broke the door?" I finally asked, "Just before heading on holidays? You had to leave the house open for a whole month."
To my surprise, no one did.
Slowly, I sat back down in my chair and conversation resumed.
How could they have forgotten that embarassing stuff up?
But then I realised.
It wasn't THEIR stuff up. It was MINE.
For them, it had been an inconvenience to be solved, but nothing dramatically more than that. Sure, they'd remembered it for awhile, but over time it had become buried by more recent events.
Buried for everyone... except me. I'd been the one keeping the embarassment alive long after everyone had forgotten the hassle I'd caused.
This happens to us all frequently.
An old friend reminds you of a moment of kindness you showed them long ago, which you've forgotten about.
We get in a fight with our spouse about who put the scratch on the side of the car, even though both of us swear that we're right.
You remember some wise advice a friend gave you, but they can't even remember the party where the conversation happened.
We're all the centre of our own story: what WE remember is rarely the same as what others do.
And maybe that's worth remembering for more reason than one. We should be more careful with what we say and do in the present, knowing that someone might remember any little thing we do.
But we should also forgive ourselves more for the mistakes we've made, because we can't change the past and, for the most part, time and people have moved on.
My daughter hovers near the door "Can I close it?" she ventures.
"It's best not" says father in-law, "That door has always been difficult."
But I'm glad it has finally slid closed for me.
Once we finished eating, and the plates were cleared, we headed inside. I pulled on their sliding door to try close it.
It was an unusual door. First you slid it almost into place, before simultaneously lifting the door and the handle to lock it into place.
The first part, the sliding, went well.
The second part, the lifting and locking, did not.
The door jammed, still slightly open.
I tried to unfix it, but to no avail. My in-laws came back from the kitchen and also tried.
No luck.
This was terrible because, along with my wife, we were all leaving the following morning for holidays in the south of France.
That door had to remain wedged open the whole time we were away! It was a moment of shame and embarassment for me. Even though my in laws came to laugh about it over time, I'd felt absolutely terrible.
But something happened today that I wasn't expecting.
After eating at the same table, my daughter went to the door to close it.
"DON'T TOUCH THE DOOR!" I jumped to my feet.
Everyone froze. My daughter. My in-laws. Everyone.
I must admit I wasn't expecting their confused expressions.
"Don't you remember how I broke the door?" I finally asked, "Just before heading on holidays? You had to leave the house open for a whole month."
To my surprise, no one did.
Slowly, I sat back down in my chair and conversation resumed.
How could they have forgotten that embarassing stuff up?
But then I realised.
It wasn't THEIR stuff up. It was MINE.
For them, it had been an inconvenience to be solved, but nothing dramatically more than that. Sure, they'd remembered it for awhile, but over time it had become buried by more recent events.
Buried for everyone... except me. I'd been the one keeping the embarassment alive long after everyone had forgotten the hassle I'd caused.
This happens to us all frequently.
An old friend reminds you of a moment of kindness you showed them long ago, which you've forgotten about.
We get in a fight with our spouse about who put the scratch on the side of the car, even though both of us swear that we're right.
You remember some wise advice a friend gave you, but they can't even remember the party where the conversation happened.
We're all the centre of our own story: what WE remember is rarely the same as what others do.
And maybe that's worth remembering for more reason than one. We should be more careful with what we say and do in the present, knowing that someone might remember any little thing we do.
But we should also forgive ourselves more for the mistakes we've made, because we can't change the past and, for the most part, time and people have moved on.
My daughter hovers near the door "Can I close it?" she ventures.
"It's best not" says father in-law, "That door has always been difficult."
But I'm glad it has finally slid closed for me.
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