Inhabiting a Memory
Memories are self-contained bits of the past we’ve locked away in our minds. You can have them stored away for years without remembering you still have them, and then suddenly, a random thing will trigger some recall that brings to light this forgotten treasure. We’ve got a trove full.
Losing them, of course, does not negate the fact that the things they represent occurred. That would be too heartbreaking. But while everyone’s always talking about good memories versus bad ones, or vivid ones rather than the hazy, I think there’s another set as well.
There are those at which we can look, view them as if they’re movies we’ve conjured (that we must watch alone–because, alas, even a memory recounted cannot perfectly match the one another has kept in his or her brain), perhaps thinking it seems such things transpired in another life or in that of a stranger.
I think these are the most common.
But memories adopt another form. Once in awhile, if we’re lucky (lucky, of course, only if the memory is a good one), memories can take the shape of the present, allowing us to step into their realm, reliving again the things within. And when that happens, when chance has awarded us the ability to experience a happy moment again rather than watching it as if through that glass darkly, it is a second life–and a gift indeed.