Pig Hunting

Alright, so, disclosure: this is not a post about hunting pigs.
It is not about hunting at all...nor pigs, really.
The thought of this post came from an experience I had yesterday that made
me wonder about some life stuff as well as provide an introduction for another
topic I had known I wanted to post about but was not sure how to go about.

Yesterday I finished reading the short novel, The Pigman. I remembered
reading this in middle school and thought I would pick it back up and refresh
my memory.
This is my only reference to the "pig" in the title.

At one time many years ago I had seen the indie/drama Good Will Hunting (my only
reference to hunting). It is a fantastic movie, short of the language.

There is a scene in the  movie during which Robin William's character is talking
about his deceased wife and how she would fart in her sleep.

Okay, two thoughts to go with here.
The first, and I am just going to get this out there,
Robin Williams committed suicide last year and I am struggling to just "be alright"
with it.
I am not alright with it. 
Although I do not know the man personally, I took his death to heart for multiple
reasons and it still makes me sick to think of it.

That runs directly into my second thought which is this: I have no intention of watching
any of his movies for a long, long time.
If my reference to Good Will Hunting is off, please accept my apologizes and just "be
alright" with it. -Although I should wonder if it really bothered you, as it would clearly
be a simple slight of my memory and nothing personal.

So, The Pigman and Good Will Hunting...where am I going from here?
After reading The Pigman, I was surprised at how it ended.
I thought I remembered -clearly remembered- that The Pigman placed pigs in his
window like an oddball and he did so in memory of his deceased wife.
Of course no one understands this until they understand The Pigman.
But my memory was wrong.

In Good Will Hunting, it is the farting, in The Pigman, the pigs.
These each represent the love these couples grew to share.
These sweet, silly, memories.
These special moments.

So, I was wrong about how The Pigman ended; wrong about what my memory told
me about those pigs.

What, then, about life?
How much of this life have I misunderstood, forgotten, or made into something that it
was not?

Blogging has been a wonderful way for my to get my thoughts and feelings "out there".
It serves as a fun way to communicate with others and share stories.
For my family, it is a smorgasbord of memories.
For me, relaxation.

Do you have any way of keeping life memories?
Are you a blogger as well?
A scrap booker?

Have you found a way to express yourself, publicly or privately?
A way to refresh your memory?
A reminder of who you are and the life that you have lived?

All the best, gomommyblogger