"The past beats inside of me like a second heart." -John Banville, The Sea
My memory is long. It is vivid. It is unforgiving. For better, it is remembering song lyrics, movie quotes, important dates and fun times. For worse, it is remembering every embarrassment, hurt and traumatic childhood moment. With both, something will trigger me (a song, smell, a feeling) and *poof*, I'm right back in it. Does this happen to you? Do you think of comebacks years later in the shower? Do you dwell on that time you fell in front of all of those people? Do you still get a rush when you think about that first kiss with your honey?
It's something I've come to depend on. (Especially when competing in trivia) And I've never really understood how it feels to not have this ability. My Mother used to get very frustrated with me because I remembered everything she said; even when she didn't. She once said to me, "I hope you have a daughter one day with that memory!" Well, she got her wish. I do. And I'm thankful she inherited this trait from me because her Daddy, although brilliant, has a little trouble in this area. (Especially when competing in trivia)
It never occurred to me that by simply getting older though, some things would eventually fade.
We are in the process of moving, which means we are going through all the things. A box of old photos stopped me in my tracks recently. In it, I found a stack of old school portraits, "Lindsey, Angie, Steve, Shannon, Beth.....who the hell is this?!" Her face, vaguely familiar, brought forth no reminiscence. Still, the pack rat in me threw it back into the box. Seems wrong to throw it out now. An hour later I had filled a small trash bag with things and faces from my past. (If you're reading this, your more than likely still in the box as well) These trinkets and mementos that once seemed so important to hold onto no longer generate specifics. Kind of sad. To some of it, I emphatically say, "Good riddance." It is best left in the past with the girl I once was. Not all memories are worth hanging on to.
Still though, I'd like to say to whoever the girl in the photo is, "I hope you're well even though I haven't seen you in more than 20 years. I wonder if I'm floating around in your box of memories. I wonder if you'll come across me one day and have a similar reaction."
Time marches on and much like a movie marquee new things replace the old. There are still plenty of memories I can recall with perfect precision; who was there, how I felt. They are precious. It is said that getting older is a privilege denied to many. I am lucky indeed. I look forward to what lies ahead as I realize the girl I was then had no idea. I still don't. But that's what makes it all so exciting.
Vanessa Sully
My memory is long. It is vivid. It is unforgiving. For better, it is remembering song lyrics, movie quotes, important dates and fun times. For worse, it is remembering every embarrassment, hurt and traumatic childhood moment. With both, something will trigger me (a song, smell, a feeling) and *poof*, I'm right back in it. Does this happen to you? Do you think of comebacks years later in the shower? Do you dwell on that time you fell in front of all of those people? Do you still get a rush when you think about that first kiss with your honey?
It's something I've come to depend on. (Especially when competing in trivia) And I've never really understood how it feels to not have this ability. My Mother used to get very frustrated with me because I remembered everything she said; even when she didn't. She once said to me, "I hope you have a daughter one day with that memory!" Well, she got her wish. I do. And I'm thankful she inherited this trait from me because her Daddy, although brilliant, has a little trouble in this area. (Especially when competing in trivia)
It never occurred to me that by simply getting older though, some things would eventually fade.
We are in the process of moving, which means we are going through all the things. A box of old photos stopped me in my tracks recently. In it, I found a stack of old school portraits, "Lindsey, Angie, Steve, Shannon, Beth.....who the hell is this?!" Her face, vaguely familiar, brought forth no reminiscence. Still, the pack rat in me threw it back into the box. Seems wrong to throw it out now. An hour later I had filled a small trash bag with things and faces from my past. (If you're reading this, your more than likely still in the box as well) These trinkets and mementos that once seemed so important to hold onto no longer generate specifics. Kind of sad. To some of it, I emphatically say, "Good riddance." It is best left in the past with the girl I once was. Not all memories are worth hanging on to.
Still though, I'd like to say to whoever the girl in the photo is, "I hope you're well even though I haven't seen you in more than 20 years. I wonder if I'm floating around in your box of memories. I wonder if you'll come across me one day and have a similar reaction."
Time marches on and much like a movie marquee new things replace the old. There are still plenty of memories I can recall with perfect precision; who was there, how I felt. They are precious. It is said that getting older is a privilege denied to many. I am lucky indeed. I look forward to what lies ahead as I realize the girl I was then had no idea. I still don't. But that's what makes it all so exciting.
Vanessa Sully
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| How we texted. Found a stack of these in my box. |
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