Walking into a dark wood, but marking a trail on the way
Before anyone says it, my table manners have improved a little since then :p
This photo is lovely and your mother looks beautiful. And happy. You're right, it's sad that memories evaporate but the feeling of care and being cared for remains firmly intact, even when all sensible speech has departed. Your mother reclaims her past through you (yes, I struggle with the old photos too sometimes!) but the great thing is that you are giving her new experiences too - and that's real whether she remembers them or not...Tilly x
Hmm.. that's set me to thinking what exactly it is that I find so upsetting about the memories disappearing. I'm obviously personally challenged by it, because I keep coming back to this subject. This was an emotional post for me - it gave me a chill to see it again, like coming across my own crime scene (sorry, just been watching 'Dexter' so the similes are going to be a bit off).Okay, I just wrote a lot more, but it'll have to be another post, because it's complicated. Everyone keeps responding to say that my Mother's memories live on in me, but I just don't get that. There are things about my own life that are irrevocably lost now that her mental shopping bag has split.Okay... it's late, it's all coming out poorly-worded. I'll come back to this no doubt very soon.Thanks for commenting again, Tilly.G x
It is a great photo, Greg. Both of you are so natural in it, it's like an ad!I think when most of us say that her memories live in you we meant that some form of the mom you remember is lasting because you're thinking about her.I like to compare this with life. When a person past away, nothing is left, the body, the mind, everything is gone; yet everything about that person still exist if even one single individual is thinking about that person. Our existence is really about the impact we make towards one another. Martin Luthur King might have lived a short life but we speak about him as if he's still alive. Why? Because he made an impact on us. His body and mind might not be there but his true essence, his profound words and his williness to change the world remained. These essences get passed on to individuals who value them and live, evolve and last on for many generations.Now, the wonderful memories of your mom will remain in you as long as you remember her. Her values, her stories and her images will live through you.This is abstract, I know. However, so is a blog in the cyber world. We are obviously communicating yet we have never met. So does the “existence” of me really important? Or it’s my essence/values?
Thanks, Sorata. I do understand that (I love the MLK example, though - very well put). I think what I'm trying to say is that I don't find it very consoling that "my Mum's memories live on in me". For a start, my Parents never really told us stories about themselves or the old days, so I haven't captured those memories for her, unfortunately. Like Tilly said, they've evaporated.This is probably just my "Heart of Darkness" moment, where all I can say is "The Horror! The Horror!" and leave it at that. Once the complexity resolves for me, I'll be sure to put it all into a post.
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