Memories of Pebbles

 There are good memories, the kind we like to recall, the ones we often recall. They are the memories that we most often recall, the ones that we most often share with others when asked about our loved ones who are no longer with us. These are the memories we no longer need to close our eyes or search our mind for. They are instantly there on the tip of our tongue soothing like sweet honey to our palate.

Like the well-worn stones in a soothing waterfall, their edges over time, have become smooth. Their flaws worn away completely and at times their shape even changed. But they are our beloved, good memories, and we will never let them go for it has been OUR tears that formed the waterfall that made them that way. It is the passing of time in the fountain of our life that has smoothed out the rough parts of these memories, possibly changing their events to shape the memory slightly so that the flaws do not show to other people. But they are still our precious memories, ones we recall over and over to share with other people.

Memories of Sand

Then there are those memories we have to reach for. Something triggers the memory:

a face in the crowd a split second glance. A scent on the breeze Oh Lord it smelled just like them a song on the radio your first dance.

And it’s enough of a trigger that you go as far as to maybe even whisper their name, your eyes first dart back and forth searching for the impossible. Then reality reminds you that it is in fact impossible so you close your eyes, still silently, pleadingly calling their name because the rest of the memory just will not form, it’s hiding somewhere.

Because like sand – the harder you try to hold a fist full of it, the more it falls quickly from your clenched fist. I call these memories “neutral” memories and compare them to sand for this reason. Imagine you are a child at the beach; you scoop up giant handfuls of sand. How many grains are there? Too many to count! Same with “neutral” memories.

I believe the heart and mind know this, we’ve already during the initial trauma of learning and dealing with the death of our loved one learned that our minds can do funny things as a way to protect the rest of the mind and thus protect “us” as a whole. What if this is how the heart and mind continues to protect us? By gradually allowing a few memories to flood back in detail, a little at a time, but not in full detail?

Maybe this is why a scent, song or other small event triggers part of a memory. We know deep down that there has to be more to the memory, we just cannot find it at that moment. Until one day we have what Oprah calls an “A-HA” moment and we suddenly remember the full memory.