The truth, just the truth and nothing but the truth

None of us remember things exactly the same way.  In my mind it is usually one way and that's most often not the way someone else remembers it.

I thought of that concept this morning as I made some French toast.

In my son Tray's mind, we had French toast every morning during his time in high school. His sisters were both in college and between the Fall of 1992 and June, 1995, we followed the same routine I had started many years before.  I always woke my children up with a cup of coffee.  I would sit with them as they started to enjoy that first cup - each one individually - first Becca, then Renee and finally Tray.  It seemed to me to be a good time to visit with my children (I am not sure they agree with that) as we talked about what was ahead for them and for all of us as the day got started.  I never actually prayed aloud with them, but it was my way of letting them know they were important to me and that I would be thinking of them and praying for them during the day.


Sorry, I'm digressing.


Back to the French toast.

We did have coffee every morning and maybe Tray is right. French toast was easy.  The kitchen and my bathroom were in close proximity and I could multi-task with no trouble.  Heat the  pan, put on make up base.  While one side browned - the eye shadow, liner, mascara were applied.  As the second side browned, I could usually get the blush and final touches done.  If the toast got cold before he got there to eat it, he could stick it in the microwave for a few seconds and it would be fine. While he ate, I fixed my hair. Then one of us would put the dishes in the sink and we were off. - him to Englewood High School and me to my job at Vistakon.  I had it down to a science.

But I really don't think we French toast every morning.

However, one of the things my son and I have in common is that we both remember every thing that happens.  And some things stay in our mind so strongly that it seems like we did it many times when it might have happened only occasionally.

For example -

A view of Jacksonville from River Road in San Marco

River Road is a favorite place of mine.  I go there often to meet my friend, Marigrace, and give her a ride somewhere.  I like to get there early enough so that I can enjoy the river or as she says "get my river fix".

In addition to enjoying the view, I have happy memories of that place.

When my sister, Cindy and I were little girls, our mother went to work at Atlantic Discount, a company that processed automobile loans.  Her rationale for doing this was that she wanted to buy a car (which she did, a little blue plymouth that was affectionately known as her puddle jumper).  She tells me that she worked there only a few months. 

It seems that daddy, Cindy and I spent many Saturdays enjoying a picnic lunch right there on River Road.  Happy memories - except...

We probably went there one Saturday, maybe two.  And it must have been that mother worked a half day and we were there before time to pick her up. Her office was not too far from where we picniced.

Once I wrote that I remembered riding bikes with my children and that it reminded me of the scene in The Sound of Music when the VonTrapp children rode through the countryside singing "Do Re Mi".

In my mind, we did it lots of times.  My children say once or maybe twice.

So tell me, when I remember something that gave me joy and it grows in my mind - and I write about it - is that embellishing?  Am I stretching the truth?  Is it okay to stretch the truth?  In the world of writers, we call this "poetic license".  We have to be careful because if we stretch it too far, it can become slander or libel - but how far can we go?

As a Christian, I think it's important to tell the truth.  One of the Ten Commandments addresses that when it tells us not to bear false witness.  Philippians 3:8 says "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things," (New International Version).

Think about what's true; concentrate on truth.  But also think on things that are lovely, admirable, praisworthy.

That would be things like the river; memories of growing up as Earl and Iva Huffingham's daughter and Cindy Huffingham Williams' sister; the fun I had raising my children and yes, even the French toast that Tray got so tired of.

Do I embellish?  Really not that much.  After all it is important to tell the truth, just the truth and nothing but the truth?  And here's another question  - is there ever a time that we shouldn't tell the truth?  Let's save that thought for another day.


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