Memory is a funny thing. Mine can be a little hit or miss (probably a consequence of head trauma and brain damage). Visceral detailed memories of places, events, and people are often triggered by qualities of light, or some scent on a breeze, or some little thing that seems entirely unrelated, until the memory unfolds to the point at which the dots are connected. Sometimes troubling, often delightful, the memory pours forth and I have a new opportunity to remember and reflect.
… I take a lot of notes, keep a careful calendar, and for many years (decades) kept an exceedingly detailed journal, just to cope with my shitty memory…
Yesterday, as I sat with a coffee at a local cafe, the recollection of a sidewalk cafe on a sunny morning in Paris surfaced. I sat enjoying the recollection for a pleasant while.
A couple days ago, as I walked through the small local library, the smell of books mingled with the librarian’s fragrance, and the late morning light filling the room called to mind some very different long ago place – a visit to the Dom Cathedral in Augsburg, Germany, which I visited several times as a young soldier.
These aren’t particularly rare memories. Hell, I doubt they are even unique to my own experience, considering how popular these places and experiences are. I just happen to have them (also). Other days, other recollections. I sometimes find myself thinking I should write them down, otherwise, when I go, they go with me…
… But I’m not certain they even “matter”, really, they’re simply a small part of who I am…
I sit quietly with my coffee letting the recollections flow by. Recent memories like sharing dinner last night with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer. Chili – it was good. More distant memories, too, like elaborate Thanksgiving dinners at Grandmother and Grandfather’s house, which were a really big deal with the cousins from Texas and the Dakotas coming for the holiday. The Christmas Market in Augsburg. Softcrab sandwiches at the harbor in Annapolis. Long walks in the mountain foothills near Grants Pass, Oregon. Orienteering with my unit at Ft AP Hill in the summertime. Hunting with my Dad on cold autumn mornings. The war. My first paycheck.The first time my now-Traveling-Partner ever touched me. That afternoon he asked me if I wanted to get married.
…So many memories make up a lifetime…
I sip my coffee grateful for my memories. I put on my boots and grab my cane to go make another before the work day begins.
… Isn’t it time to begin again?
Evening Light 