Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Caring for a memory

 The security of memory is the greatest comfort of man. It is in memory that there are no unknowns, we always know what to expect. Things never change. It is true that we may see a new angle every now and again, but the core is unchanged. This has become more evident  as I collect those memories. Perhaps that is the reason I began to write them down, fear of losing them. Lost memories have no home and are doomed to die. But if they are spoken of, or written down, that will not be so.
 Cave man began to draw his pictures on the walls to preserve his memories. I can think of no other reason he would have done so. Man has continued to record his memories ever since. Whether it was with drawings or symbols the recording of memory has been of primary importance. Each bit of information we acquire is a memory. Surely we can categorize those memories between what is information, and what is personal,but they remain memories nonetheless. We age very slowly in our minds. Our bodies may start to fade but our mind may endure. When our mind begins to fade that is always unexpected, at least to the one that it is happening too. I, of course, cannot speak from personal experience as my mind is apparently still functioning fine. I have spoken with and had contact with those that are not so fortunate. Alzheimer's and dementia scare me. I wonder what that feels like from the inside, and am afraid to find out ! It is my hope that I am spared that. But this posting was not meant to be depressing and I'm afraid it has taken that turn.
 I do think that our memories can provide us great comfort. I also think that is why we tend to gather reminders of those memories around us. I do it with old photographs and artifacts. The older the photograph or artifact the more it seems to give comfort. I have several old artifacts that I remember seeing at my Grandparents house. That is the only memory I have of them and now they are in my possession. Somehow my memories are connected to those things. But not just connected to the memory of seeing those things, no, deeper memories than that. It is almost as though some of my grandparents memories are instilled in those objects. I find this to be true with old photographs as well. Is this where old memories live ? When these objects are destroyed are the memories destroyed with it ? Sounds like science fiction doesn't it ? I can see that easily enough yet the feeling persists. Is that why we treasure and protect those objects from the past ? Lost memories are among the saddest of emotions. I have long said, as long as we speak of those past, as long as we remember them and speak their name they are not gone, not forgotten. There memory is still alive.
 I have been writing my thoughts and memories down in the hope they will be saved. But more than that it is my hope they will be read and pondered. If I can influence the thinking of someone in the future will that not validate the past ? My past, which to someone, will just be a memory. At least if I am successful it will be. And now I have another thought about this preservation of memory. Should I not link picture to word ? Yes they say a picture is worth a thousand words but what does the picture have to say ? If you have no memory of that picture I would think it says little. I have several pictures like that and they do speak to me. The thing is they only say what I imagine. More explanation is necessary. It is this thinking that led me to this point. What if I took a picture of myself or a place and attached an essay explaining it. Compiling these over a number of years might prove an interesting experiment in the preservation of memory. By explaining in detail what or where each photograph was taken for. Maybe I could relearn my memories should I forget ! Hummm, something to consider.

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