Tuesday, December 28, 2010

A Memory Lost, A Day Discombobulated

Today I was gonna write a post about this essay I wrote in high school. It was a specialty literature class and the topic was "What scares you?" (or something like that). I've always been particularly proud of that essay and presentation. I knew it was good because the teacher refused to give it back - said no student had ever captured the true essence of the assignment like that before (yup, just bragged about my high school self). I had to get a younger sibling liberate it for me a couple years later - true story.

Anyway . . . I couldn't find it this morning. Not anywhere. Checked all the places it could possibly be. Nada. So, instead of writing something funny/snarky/insightful about high school me versus grown-up me, you get me talking about my (gulp!) feelings.

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SOURCE: dreamstime
We all have our own treasures. Not money or gold - more memories and mementos. Maybe a dusty grade school year book, a random birthday card or two, a silly sketch drawn on the back of an envelope, steamy notes from you know who, a crumbled remnant from a favorite dress.

There's a comfort in knowing these moments are tangibly yours when you need them. A flashback to a first kiss brightens a gloomy day. Wading through sorrows past can place the present into perspective. Some of us hold onto many moments, others only a few. It's not the muchness that matters, it's the instant re-immersion the select artifacts inspire.

One day you seek out a moment, only to find that it's not there. A wave of coldness overtakes you as you frantically search every place it could or ought to be. Did you forget to catalog this memory? No, impossible. Blame begins. Clearly, you're not at fault. You try to suppress the boiling anger that's rising in your throat. You fight the urge to weep at the unexpected loss. And then you scramble.

Scramble to reassemble the pieces of the memory in your mind. You try to imprint the moment, the feel, the sounds, the sights. If it's no longer tangible, it must be made permanent. This takes but a moment - an unwelcome moment. A moment that will live with you all day, creating a cloudy aura of irritation and sadness, imperceptible to most, yet impenetrable by you.

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