Isn’t it funny how much of our lives will be forgotten? I think it is. We spend so much time immersed in these little moments that will soon float downstream, never to be seen again. I do, at least.
I imagine my mind to vaguely resemble the moon, at least in a metaphorical sense. Meteors roar out of the cosmos and smash into me, and the collateral damage wipes out days and months of memories in favor of an impression of a single catastrophic event. Sometimes I feel like I’m all craters where all sorts of memories used to be. Occasionally I’ll unearth a fragment of some old thought, only to watch it dissolve in my hands. It’s hard to feel bad anymore. Eyes on the sky! I never seem to know when the next strike will come, or what damage it will cause.
Forgive the emblematic talk, if you can. I spend an awful lot of time thinking about what memories mean to me, as I have only a precarious grasp on a precious few.
I think I was dancing when the first meteor struck. That’s what Mark says. He says I was over the sink, washing dishes, singing along and shuffling my feet to something. Neither of us remember the song. I remember an ambulance; he remembers me slurring and losing my balance and falling and still singing as he dialed 911. I don’t mind that particular crater; that all sounds dreadful. I do like to think that I left my old life dancing; at least I know I went out in style.
I’m still here, but things are different since the stroke. It’s hard to be comfortable with who I am because I feel a great void where so much of me was lost. I have my thoughts as they come to me in the moment, but they float away too fast for me to keep up. In that way, I feel that I am who I am only in passing, with no guarantee that how I feel about myself...
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... my return to humanity.
Mark will be redeemed. My family will be redeemed. They have built bridges over my canyons, and their toil will be repaid by my independence and guarantee of return.
I will one day soon take my place in the sky. They may see just a sliver at first, but upon their time of darkness, they shall gaze upwards and be rewarded by the blazing glow of a full moon. I will cast my light to guide their way, and they shall at last be redeemed.
Until that time comes, I’ll be here in my comfy socks, covered with sesame and poppy seeds, on this couch with Mark. His hand rests on my leg underneath the blanket, and we are lit by the dull glow of the television as a movie plays softly across the room. Every second in his company is a step towards acceptance of myself and of a new path. Every moment that slips by, while forgotten, propels me towards the stars.
It is of course known that humans compile thousands of memories throughout their lifetime. While memories often fade sometimes to the point of being forgotten over time, certain memories can have a lasting impact that does not fade no matter how old the memory becomes. The Road by Cormac McCarthy explains, “Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that.
Primo Levi once said, " Human memory is a marvelous but fallacious instrument. The memories which lie within us are not carved in stone; not only do they tend to become erased as the years go by, but often they change, or even increase by incorporating extraneous features.." The memory of a human being is a fascinating matter, but it is not something that stays with us forever. Memories will often change or multiply with unnecessary information, but they are what define you as you.
Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.——My Ántonia.
"You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its saltness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Insead they put it on its stand, and its gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify the Father in
Brock awoke to the sound of a trumpet. He was ready to get training. Brock put on his long johns, pants, shirt, coat, and hat. Then he slowly walked out of his tent. When he walked out he was greeted by Major General Wayne. He said, “Follow me i'll show you where you will be training.” Brock followed him for a about a mile until they walked into a large field with hundreds of saddled horses, and about 80 other men. Major General Wayne said,
The fog was heavy, the distance we were able to see was less than 30 yards from our position.
I have received your letter, are the children healthy and well? How are you lately? Have you been sick recently? I am fine, well, as right as one is capable of being over in this land. I have thought of you every second of every day, there is not one moment I have forgotten about you. I just wish to be back home again. Last time you said that Henry was feeling slightly ill, I have some medicine stashed away in the bottom cupboard near the grand clock. If he shall start to feel very poorly, you may go there and find him medicine. You will know which one it is once you see it, I do not want Henry to turn out like poor Will did.
Thinking about my childhood, I remember many things that influenced me as a person and changed or evolved my perspective of the world, its peoples and its things. One of my most vivid memories that this essay is about, changed the way I represented myself to the world and the way I felt being exposed to it. -- Being lost or forgotten at a young age is a bone-chilling experience that all of us have to go through, at one point or another. So, here I was, at the age of three, left all alone at a carnival in Muscat, Oman.
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