Sometimes you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory
I was going through my file of blog posts the other day, and it occurred to me that I tend to write a lot about memories. My wife often accuses me of living in the past, and I am beginning to think she is right. I seem to go there a lot.
I guess there is nothing wrong with that. I mean, it’s not like eating too much pizza. Another slice of life won’t hurt you, but you do walk away feeling full. However, as Dr Suess says, the value of a moment is seldom realized in the moment. It has to sit there and ripen, until a memory finally blooms. That’s when you pick it and press it between the pages of y0ur mind.
I have a lot of memories. It appears I have been collecting them for years, mostly without recollection. Moments I thought I had discarded due to age in fact had just been pushed to the bottom of the pile. It’s kind of like writing a book whose final chapter is yet to be written. Each day, another moment gets added. Another page completed. And whenever I wish, I can take it off the shelf and, opening it at random, find something that was worth saving and reliving again.
Of course, there are the painful ones too. Why do I hold on to those moments? I guess because they too have value. More often then not, they come packaged with a lesson. Something that was impactful enough to have indelibly remained in my subconscious, to be accessed as needed. And, having been softened by time, they too can become mellow. The hurt I felt in the moment has been replaced by a gentler memory.
So, I will continue to surround myself with them, good and bad. I will add them to the pile and from time to time, dust them off. I will cherish them as I do life itself. They are me, and I am them. We are one. And, when that final chapter is written, a long time from now, I plan to take them with me.