memories.
It’s 2008, and I’ve been reflecting not only on the last year, but my whole life. Memory is a funny thing. I was just thinking about how fuzzy things get the further you get away from them. Events beome little disjointed snippets and I can’t remember conversations that meant the world to me at the time, or what exactly it was that my friends and I would talk about late at night at our sleepovers, or the things I used to pray about.
I wonder how different my memories would be if I didn’t have photographs to document them. Once, I heard someone saying how they disliked pictures for that very reason. Because whenever they look back on certain events in their life, all they can see are the images in their photo album. The photograph becomes their memory, rather than the experience itself.
My step-grandmother once mentioned that she didn’t have a single photograph of herself as a girl and she didn’t even know what she looked like when she was younger. Can you imagine… all the times we look into a mirror day after day, year after year, and then how easily someone could forget the way their own face looked.
Back in my introductory creative writing class in college, I was asked why I wanted to write. I wrote on my paper, “I want to write so I don’t forget.” I am scared of forgetting. How precious all these little moments in my life are… the conversations I have had, the songs that I would turn to when I felt a particular way, secrets I have been told, moments that have made me cry, times my heart has felt like it was going to explode.
Sometimes I wish life would slow down a little bit so my heart and I could catch up. I have “wow, I am getting old” moments every now and then. When people I am friends with are having babies, and kids that were born in the ’90’s are already in high school, and I don’t get IDed when I buy wine at the grocery store. But mostly I can’t believe how far I already am from particular events in my life and I want it to pause for a moment. I don’t want it all to fade away into one big blur, where you can get an over-all feel when you look at it, but can’t make out any of the details.
January 8th, 2008 at 6:52 am
you know Jen, you and I have similar thoughts, you just write so much better than I would. I actually was just thinking about how I don’t really remember my childhood all that much,and how I don’t want to forget the things that mean the most to me. Dan and I were talking about this on Sunday. We missed you at bowling
. I hope you are doing well. Call me if you want to hang out and chat or just sit and cry together. I always love a good cry. love you and hope to see you soon. Thanks again for sharing your amazing thoughts. You write so wonderfully too. Ok I’ll get back to work.
January 8th, 2008 at 11:42 am
This was beautifully written. I write so I won’t forget too. Not always as well as I would like, but as long as it’s written.
January 8th, 2008 at 5:35 pm
Dear Jen~ This is very wierd. I haven’t visited here in a little while, and your post was so applicable to what I was “sorting” through today in my mind. (With Amy’s comment above, I’m thinking the Frederick women are super connected.) This was a great post! Early this morning I got up so I could journal about year’s end. I ended up typing 3 pages, and I’m still not finished. My thoughts today were a little different variety…I think I could summarize it by stating: I’ve learned alot of really valuable (although painful) lessons this year. But what I haven’t learned to do is make my heart stop feeling hurt,even though my brain completely understands what has transpired. (I’m referring to a couple specific, hurtful situations that have occured in the past.)
Anyway – don’t worry about not remembering special things. They will come flooding back into your memory at random times. Like when Danielle was 6 and received her first doll, I flashbacked to my first doll – and it was a sweet memory! Or when we visited Funnel and Peab’s Bible Institute in N.Y. – I remembered my first day on the college campus, and it was with very real clarity. It happens with triggers!
Lovely post from a very lovely lady. Sorry about this long post from a long winded lady!!! Love you -
P.s. do you want to meet for dinner before church Wed.?
January 8th, 2008 at 6:07 pm
I’m always afraid of forgetting. That’s so funny you wrote this- I was just thinking about that earlier today, well I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m so afraid of forgetting Argentina and all those little moments that meant the world to me at the time. I made the tragic mistake of not writing it all down. I have gotten out of the habit of journal writing and I need to start. And soon!
I think it’s so interesting how scents, songs, words, nature… can reproduce or rekindle a memory- and maybe you don’t remember the whole memory- but just a moment… that’s so weird that one small thing can bring on such a wave of emotion. I went to the local hardware with my dad the other day and it was all so nostalgic- especially having my dad with me. I felt like a little girl again skipping down the aisles with my daddy’s giant hands sweetly holding mine. (yes- his hands are still giant compared to mine) Or driving in a car and a song comes on that you haven’t heard in awhile and you’re immediately transported to a different place, maybe a different time.
I too am afraid of forgetting, but life has a way of helping us remember. I like to think that the important things will stay with me- but if I do forget, they always find a way of returning. I believe all our memories really do stick with us, they may just go into hiding and return when we need them. Besides we’re always making new memories. And as long as you’re writing everything down, you’ll always be able to revisit that time- which is pretty cool. I think.
January 15th, 2008 at 6:02 am
Hi Jen…you don’t know me, but I know your site through Sarah Martindell. I love coming here and reading your entries. This one especially rings true, about being afraid to forget. I also think it’s sad what we forget that wasn’t apart of our lifetime…like what our grandparents and great-grandparents lived through. I get sad when I think that their memories are lost after they pass away, and it makes me want to talk to them to receive all of their memories, to sort of keep them alive. That kind of reminds me of The Giver, if you’ve ever read it. Only less…morbid.