“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”
― Oscar Wilde
After my Dad died I realised that I would never remember all the stuff he talked about. The lessons he tried to teach, the memories he shared about his early life with Mum, his experiences of people. You see my Dad lived with me and my family and liked to talk (something tells me I am my Fathers daughter for sure) and often I was too busy with life to listen as carefully as I should have. After all older people have a lot to teach us if only we listened. That said my kids, extended family and I remember quite a bit (thankfully).
Only now do I take more care to remember the important things in life.
At the same time I figured out that it is also important to be conscious about making memories, as we only have one life, and I understand a rich person is not the one with the most money, but the one with the sweetest memories. Therefore my rally cry to friends is “let’s go make a memory” and luckily they are most compliant and love life just as much as me.
Today as Lady L sat next to the river and tried out her bird watching skill, (her Aussie cousins had impressed her with their skill so she is in practice for their return visit next year – which is not looking good as she failed miserably, saying “it’s a Swallow, no a Swift” “why a Swift?” I asked, knowing full well it was because it flew fast – that had been her only clue! It looked like a dove or pigeon to me but it could have been a penguin for all I know (just kidding I know penguins are not birds they are mammals, Lady L told me!!) This had followed her navigating skill, where she used her inbuilt Red Indian genes to instruct me how to find a pub in Northumberland. Her instructions went a little like this “it’s just past Hexham, yes that’s where it is Bellingham, no hang on its Wall, no it’s just up here. Is this the Military Road, are you sure this is not the Military Road”. In the end I stopped and got out the Maps on my phone, and gave in to the modern world, only to find she couldn’t follow the darn thing. So giving up entirely we stopped at nearest place beside the river and chilled, vowing to find the other pub some other day, or when Penguins fly.
However we did come up with a strategy for making our memories stick. Our first one (we used in Canada last year), we stand looking at a beautiful view, using a splitter on our iPhone we listen to an awesome song such as “one moment in time”. This uses two senses to absorb the memory. We decided the more senses you use the better, including smell and touch if possible. Perhaps if we had held hands it would have been better in Canada (creepy but better).
Second is to take a photo, or blog it recording how it felt at the time. Including recording what was said, funny things we shared. I find sharing the blog or repeating the sayings again brings back the feelings too. You can’t help telling a good memory without a smile on your face – just try it!
Or one which I haven’t tried, which is when you are in a special place, tell a secret to someone. Such as how you feel about them. Saying ” I love you” for the first time or “will you marry me” (be careful with this one – for obvious reasons!). It’s probably better not to say things like “I killed your ferret”, that may cement the wrong memories and lose you friends, if you know what I mean.
Sometimes memories are so good you feel you simply can’t absorb enough of them, I know I have felt like that. So even if trying to trap a memory can be tricky its worth it.
But in the end the best part is sometimes the playback. When you reminisce with loved ones and friends. When you enhance the best times with added twists not untruths just little funnies. It brings out the best and you will get to relive them all over again. That’s what makes memories important they have staying power…..,
wherethehellisgillian 