Destination: Memory Lane

I’m not sure if this is true of everyone- but out of all the memories I have stored in my head the majority of them revolve around the sky. Cloudy days, sunny days, snowy days- most of my recollections are tied to my memories of the sky.

For example, I have this very vivid memory, from when I was a wee child, of a morning thunderstorm. I woke up as soon as this loud CRACK! of thunder reverberated off our house. I bolted right out of bed and went in search of an adult. The entire house was dark, save for a light in the kitchen. As I went around the corner I found the most glorious sight- my Meme! And not to mention the expectation of a delicious breakfast. After my nerves were calmed, we sat down at the dining room table, Mickey Mouse pancakes and fruit soup* ready to be devoured, and gazed out the window at the dark grey sky. I don’t remember anything past that, nor what we talked about, yet I know that thunderstorm mornings will always be promising days.

What influenced my pondering, besides the fact that my mind is constantly racing, is that today is a sunny day. Sunny days are mysteries. They either hold promise, or disaster. Now we’re all wired so differently that many of these feelings cannot be explained. You see, sunny days hold many memories for me, and a large portion are not pleasant ones. Perhaps it’s the people I spent them with- many no longer in my life. Perhaps, in my opinion sunny days are always too much- too much sun and too many people. And the sky does that thing where it washes out all the blue from the sky, as the day progresses, and when you look up all you see is white.

While I was reading “The Reader” (you can find the link to the review in the right-hand column) I came across something that stood out to me, particularly for this day.

“Sometimes the memory of happiness cannot stay true because it ended unhappily. Because happiness is only real if it lasts forever? Because things always end painfully if they contained pain, conscious or unconscious, all along? But what is unconscious, or unrecognized pain?”

Now let’s give this some thought, do all memories stay happy? What do you think?

Or do the future actions of others blind us to the happiness we experienced? I’ve given this much thought recently. It’s hard for me to think of my own happiness, once that happiness has been clouded with unfulfilled expectations or misplaced trust. Yet is this right? It WAS a happy moment. I remember being happy, so does that memory all of a sudden change once I’m no longer happy. Is happiness only stable if the people involved are stable?

This kind of thinking can lead to absolute darkness, where your head is full of blotted out moments, and faceless people. If you commit to relying on the fickleness of humans to define your happiness- you will no longer find any joy in life. Which is not to say that a measure is necessary. There are memories that need to be clouded for a time in order for hearts to heal, and emotional wounds to close up.

Memories are a fascinating being, which I suppose is why humans are also fascinating beings. Yet, this leads to another pondering question- do memories make us who we are? Or rather, how we remember them? Is it the person we are that makes a memory? Whereas one can find happiness in a memory, and another can find sadness in the same? One might see adventure when another finds loneliness.

I suppose we all must answer these questions for ourselves. As we strive for understanding we are left with even more questions, and as we answer these questions we are met with more and more and more.

And as we stroll down memory lane may we not fear the blots, and may we not create them. Memories create fear and joy, comfort and distress, they burn down buildings and build up mountains, they remind us of love, and  help us recall the things we were scared to lose. Without memories, we would only have moments. And moments fade away so quickly.

The night is no longer young, so I shall sign off until next time. I have some reminiscing to return to,

Happy Reading.

*'Fruit soup' was created through my stubbornness. I had a hard time accepting the bland nature of fruit, and vegetables for that matter. To make 'fruit soup' merely place about a cup of your favorite fruits into a bowl. Pour cold water over the fruit, and look proudly at your creation for just a moment. Proceed to eat the 'soup' as any normal person eats soup, with a spoon. Reward yourself for your resourcefulness, fruit serving and water intake all at once! Whoa fella, slow down, the world is not ready for you. (Yes, this was a real thing I did. Yes, as I think about it it's actually a little odd. No, I do not enjoy this delicacy today.)