November 18, 2005

Peter Bogdanovich, the famous director, told a story of how he was with the aging Orson Wells and some other friends when Citizen Cane came on the television.  Orson Wells began to cry.

For those of you who don't know, Citizen Cane is perhaps the greatest film ever made, especially for its time.  Orson Wells wrote, directed, and stared in the film while only in his twenties.  From that project on, his career spiraled downward.  He would often jest, "I started at the top and worked my way down."

Thus it was no real surprise to those present that Orson Wells wept at the sight of his masterpiece on TV.  A reminder of the greatness he used to be.

But later, while walking with Peter Bogdanovich, Orson Wells confided in him that he was not crying because of his faltering career.  He said, "I was crying because it was so long ago."

So long ago.

When I was a teenager, I attended an anniversary party for an elderly couple.  The children, parents of their own, had covered one wall with old childhood photos.  As the celebrated couple couple gazed up and down the uneven grid of frozen moments, they wept.  I recall thinking that old people just cried a lot.  Now I understand.

Being elderly myself, I know that we don't compare those years with our current ones.  It's not about whether or not those were better times.  It's about the fact that they're moving further away from us.  The mother, holding her fragile baby in her secure arms, so long ago.  The father, asking his future wife for a date, so long ago.  The movie director, having fun at work with good friends, so long ago.

It's inevitable.  Everyone who lives long enough will experience the distant memories, floating away, out of grasp.  Knowing this has an upside.  Hang onto these moments when they're here.  Stop and look around while holding your child, and realize that you're living in a memory.  Feel the present.  Enjoy it while it's real.  Sooner than you think, now will be so long ago.