Sometimes, we dont realize we are in the middle of a memory until the moment has passed us by and we step back from the situation. Days afterward, we begin to think about the moment, investigating the details of each dialogue; what the words meant, how the actions were or were not connected to the words. The facial features; the way they changed over the course of the conversation and how we could see through them but couldnt get the explanation you were looking for. We etch that moment in our brains, trying to hold on to something.
Its not always this way. Sometimes, we know we are stimulating memories in the exact moment they are happening. We find ourselves stopping and saying, sometimes out loud, Ill never forget this moment and we dont. We perpetrate it to memory; the sights, sounds, and odors. These are the easy ones because we set out to induce these memories. Its like our 10 -year old family journey to Disney; we know its a few moments our mothers expended a gazillion dollars on and that while we may have felt like we were in the concourses of forced household fun, we still “re coming out” with some solid memories and some epic family photos with attires that still have us asking why would we be dressed that way Its easy to watch why we have and hold on to memories like that. Or memories of our grandparents, how we used to spend holidays and weekends and random Tuesdays playing cards and watching the Golden Girls. These moments have shaped our lives. They are the kind of thing where we can close our eyes, reek a smell or hear a anthem or watch an episode and be transported back.
But the memories we didnt know we were attaining; the ones that we cant maybe know are even going to become memories? Those are the ones that kill us most. They are the ones that disguise themselves as a quick journey to the store for something as trivial as deodorant or Jell-O and wind up being engrained on our brains for years to come. They are the ones where a song can stop us dead in our ways, smiling or weeping( or perhaps both) because they pull us so close to the moment that it hurts. They are buried in aromas we forgot existed that blaze by us, turning our heads as we begin to silently reminisce about the moment tied to that one smell, feeling like weve been punched in the stomach by life.
Turns out that even the best memories just make us miss the things they were tied to; the style things were, the things that could have been but couldnt then. We ache for these moments to be so much more than memories; to be pieces we could relive, if even just for a moment. And maybe we would change the outcome and perhaps the outcome would change us( more than it has already ). And maybe nothing would change but wed hold on to the person for just a second longer, a lot harder, opposed a little more for that goodbye kiss then maybe, we wouldnt be so worried that that moment would be our last memory
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