Memory

I don't have a ton to say about this post, except that it struck a cord down in me somewhere; whether I did it justice or not, this is where "the impulse" took me today.  As I began writing this post, I was reminded of a song from the musical Cats-- which I have attached at the bottom.  It's a long song, but if you have the time, take a moment and listen for a moment or two until you get to about 1:30 where I found a lot of my inspiration.  Enjoy. 

Memory:

     In my mind, there’s a box. It’s a small box; looking very plain and simple, it remains tightly packed away in the back of my mind where no one else can find it. When life gets rough and my soul needs a rest, I brush off the dust and look into the swirling mists of that box and pull out a memory: a memory of time long past.

     First, a relaxed memory of lazy Sunday nights surrounded by family, popcorn and Chinese checkers sprawled across the floor. We play games, we tell stories, we laugh and love like it’s the only thing we can do. I pull out another memory and find a cold memory, filled with warmth: hiking through the mountains on a frigid winter morning. I am not happy at the early hour, but as the dawn fades into a mountain-view sunrise my heart melts and I am speechless. A new memory arises and takes hold, dispelling the image of the now bright horizon, and suddenly I’m in the park and not alone. We look into the night sky and laugh as fireworks explode just above our heads. There’s a crowd not far way doing just the same, but we pay no attention to them; for now it’s just us, and a summer that will last forever. Another memory wrenches my attention, and the scene changes—a funeral now. Family has just passed away. The atmosphere is sad, tears wet every eye, but among the tears is a surprise. A smile, a laugh, they are not filled with joy of the present, but rather joy of times past and joy for times yet to come. The scene fades away and sinks back into the box.

     As I return the box to the shelf, I ponder on the last memory I have just relived. We all have crazy lives, and through it all there is always one place we can go. Memory. I knew it, they knew it too. For when life goes on, the past does not sink away. It becomes a part of us: a memory. A memory too.