Warm Memories and Healthy Benefits

Recently at a restaurant with some family members, I noticed that the television was showing a program that looked familiar, and I thought aloud, “Is that General Hospital?” As I looked up, I saw the character, Sonny Corinthos. I remember watching General Hospital almost daily when I was in college, many years ago. Sonny Corinthos was a very handsome, bad guy – good guy type of character, as they often are in soap operas. The same actor, Maurice Benard, a little bit older, but still attractive, was assuming the role. As I continued to watch, Genie Francis appeared. If anyone has watched General Hospital, you know the story of Luke and Laura. Laura was (and still is) played by Genie Francis. For some peculiar reason, I found comfort in this.

What was it about seeing General Hospital that brought me comfort? Since many of us are not fond of change, my brief exposure to General Hospital on this day brought an assurance – Sonny and Laura are still in Port Charles. As actors, they are thriving, and present. I wonder though, did their appearance also elicit a warm memory from my college days when I watched it with friends and followed the characters as if they were real people I knew personally? For one hour the characters came to life for us. We were fully immersed to the point that we shared opinions of what they should or should not do. (If only we put as much thought into our studying). As we watched, we groaned in unison when we wanted somebody to do something, say something, or act on something, and it did not happen. And then, we had to wait for the next episode. I laugh at how we plunged into this daily show, a pleasant recall. But how, and why did that bring me comfort?

I encountered a similar situation a few weeks later while on vacation in Maine. I had read that the entertainment in the lounge would include a familiar DJ couple for an evening. When I saw the names, “Flamin’ Raymond and Sizzlin’ Susan,” that same feeling of comfort came over me. We first brought our children to Point Sebago in Casco, Maine more than 20 years ago. At that time, dance parties were hosted by the couple, and after many years, they were here, again. Raymond was still dressed in a shirt of orange, gold, and black “engulfed” in flames. Whether rain or sun, indoors or out by the lake, he always donned shorts, a hat, and sunglasses; this was no different on this night. Susan stood back smiling, playing the music, moving with each beat, while Raymond engaged the audience in dance steps. His voice was clear and energetic. Twenty years later, he still had the moves as he taught others to cut a rug. I have fond memories of my daughter, Brianna, and her friends Brianna, Lauren, and Jenna dancing to Cotton Eye Joe and the Funky Chicken. This familiar scene had me reliving earlier years, stirring a deep sentiment inside of me.

Is it about knowing expectations? Seeing the characters from the past, now appearing in the present was almost routine (in both experiences). I knew how they would act; I knew their history, and that supplied the clear expectations, and a sense of satisfaction. I found myself nodding in acknowledgement with a smile, “yes, this is how I remember it.” How I experienced each of these came floating to the surface, and with it, contentment.

As I recalled, reminisced, and shared fragments of these nostalgic experiences, I engaged in an amusing conversation that veered off to other places, and events, all with some connection to the first. I could almost feel the positivity releasing endorphins. I reveled in the thought that reminders of these past, positive experiences, no matter how uncomplicated and simple, not only bring joy but an enhancement to well-being.