Memories vs Reality

One's mind could play tricks on one. How accurate are your memories? As much as I wish I have perfect memories, especially for the happy ones, I know that I "beautify" them. I remember distinctly getting excited and rushing to the door when I hear my godfather's whistle every evening when he came home. But the details eludes me.

My godsister told me that when they were younger, my godfather used to be very bad-tempered and had more than one occassion raised his hand at my godmother. That wasn't the man I knew. I remember him as a kind and quiet man, smoking in a corner, watching and listening as the rest of the family chatted in the living room. He offered to pay for my education when he heard that I was having financial difficulty to stay in college, though I didn't take up the offer, I was truly grateful because he didn't have much.

Did I choose to only see the good in the one man whom I thought was the most down-to-earth and real guy in my life?