Nov 21 2008
Dredging the memory tank
I find myself trying to write this post by trying to reach back into the dregs of my foggy memory. Not that there is a shortage of it you see, actually it is the opposite. Too many memories file past, forming a mental movie of what once was; some good, some are bad and some a waste of space.
It amazes me that at times I can recall vividly scenes from early childhood yet what I had for breakfast yesterday is a mystery. While writing a word presents itself and in a very few seconds is gone for the duration of said writing only to reappear later in the day, randomly and at a useless point in time. Yet when I need it, the word vanishes like fog in a wind storm….
There are more than a few memories I wish I could erase from the gray matter, expunge them into the void, forever lost to time and memory. Without them would I remain who I am? Would it change me in ways I would be unable to fathom? Probably.
There are memories that started out good enough only to end up nightmares, festering tumors of mental matter that become painful in passing during a review.
Some mental movies would kill me to lose; the birth of my sons, my mother’s face, my beautiful wife, brothers and sisters, friends, sunrises and sunsets and needless to say beauty in all its glorious forms.
Memory it makes us what we are, what we become.
Thomas H. Forthe
