When I hear the word memory I immediately associate it with my Pre-calc teacher in high school who in a deep Indian accent would ask the class to, “use our mammary” As comical as it is to hear that request day in and day out, there in lies a memory.
So what in the world are memories anyway? Are they just distant apparitions of the past that have left some residue on our minds? Are they whispers to our subconscious that help us make decisions? Are they even applicable to the present, the current?
I’m not necessarily referring to experiences that have help shape our word view or the people we are currently. I am talking about those random conversations with a friend, a random meal, a passing grin or smile. Those memories that drift in and out of frame with little to no significance.
I am sure there are those who argue that every moment holds power and you cannot truly ascertain or categorize the importance of a particular event. But I am not making this post applicable to those arguments either. I just want to know what roles memories should play in our day to day. There is no argument in that being nostalgic holds a negative connotation, so if we are not to be wrapped up on the past than do we only embrace the present? Disregard the past? Ignore the future?
I personally believe that past and future are of high importance, to what degree I am not sure I am confident enough to say.
My family is currently in the process of moving out of our Big Brown House that my father and grandfather built with their own hands in the late 70’s. They built it strong and it has withstood the worst of the worst but now it is time to say farewell. Every wall i lean against, every crack I step on, every doorknob that I touch bursts forth with….memories. I am still young and my siblings and even cousins may have older and more powerful memories of my home than I do but it is still a apart of my existence.
My mom loves pictures too, my home is covered in photographs of those we’ve lost and those we’ve gained. Growing pains are spelled out across the window sill where many frames stand. How tightly should we grasp at these ghosts of the past though?
This is another issue where I have no concrete conclusion to offer.
Lauryn Hill says that “After winter must come spring, Change, it comes eventually.” So my thoughts are that change is inevitable. We can remember the past but only hold on tight enough so it can slip back into time.
I ate a slice of pizza that tasted like canned peaches, thus my thoughts are on that. I will remember that slice of pizza as my belly digests it. If I had not just written that down, I would have forgotten within the hour about my peach flavored pizza. Maybe something down the line in my future will spark my memory about that pizza but until then it is lost to float on.
On that dismal note.