Living Memory

I have taken my memory for granted. I like to remember. I can remember many precise details from the binging of my youth. My memory is my solace, my connection to the past and and a history lesson for my present endeavors. Not everyone remembers the same things, but collectively, memory can enhance all events, when shared.

I have a sister that does not remember her childhood. My father cannot remember past today. I have relatives that cannot remember significant actions. I have friends that do not remember anything negative. Others will not remember the positive component of a memory. Most bizarre are the memories that are constructed. People I known will draw on an event and develop a memory that never existed.

I feel estranged by those that were part of my memory and refuse to continue to keep the memory safe and alive. Living memory is vital to ensure a moment, a celebration, a pivotal transformation is never forfeited. Lost memory saddens me. I enjoy rekindling and renewing memories. I need my memory.

My grandmother had the best memory of anyone I have known. She could remember at least 20 stanzas of sagas that she sang until her death at 103. I aspire to develop my memory. I need to be part of her legacy.