How do we store our memories? I love this photo as it so depicts the way many of us store our photos, and sometimes letters or thoughts. I’ve written in the margins not only to comment or argue with the writer, but also to capture the way the author’s words or sentences send me on a rollercoaster of my own.
The other day I came across a card my mother sent some many years ago. It was in a book I’d gone back to for a needed quote. I can tell the span of years wherein her thoughts were sent to me by the ones she includes in her comments. Or by the questions: How is Angela doing in first grade? How is the dog doing? All healed from the operation? Did you make the spice tea for the theatre group? And oh my! what a flood of memories those words unleashed. Overwhelming.
Sure I have boxes of photos, some actual albums and dates and times and events. But how sweet to open a past loved book, and find within, the stored memories of a life lived long ago. It’s like a phone call from the past. For a few brief minutes we are transported to that world and we see that face, hear the laughter, and feel the kisses deep.