Various Christmas, Birthday, and Anniversary Gifts from Donna. I see these and remember opening them. Memories are fluid.
Allow me to jump back into this article from Web site Farnam Street. The piece "We Are What We Remember". The Venn of my life and me living within my life in the chaos of grief is largely calmed by my memories. For better or worse my memories are shaping my today and tomorrow. We truly are what we remember. An earlier post on memories “The Neurobiology of Memories and Grief”.
Key points from the article and how they relate to my world.
Our memories can play tricks on us because we believe they are carved in stone. We subscribe to our memories as being full on accurate. If anyone questions what we remember, well they are dumb assed.
Donna was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer three plus years before she died. I remember every one of her appointments for treatments, examines, or scans. After she died I remembered all the memories of our 30 years of marriage. All of it. Or I think I did. In a Podcast talking to Donna's closest friends. I asked them what they remembered about me during her illness and after. Surprising that what I thought was going on was different from what they witnessed. Maybe not radically different just shaded in a more subtle light. Not better or worse just an "Oh hell for realz?" moment.
Memories are not perfectly copied analog vinyl albums. Memories are moldable and they combine with other memories and moments. Fluid dynamics of the mind.
Damn skippy my memories combine and morph. I've had this memory of Donna and I in Soho living in 5th floor walkup. A tiny place. The place where I asked her to marry me. Where we had many Christmas's together with little to give each other. As I look aimlessly at the apartment in my mind another memory comes to me. There was no washer/dryer in the building. We used a local laundry drop off. I remembered that laundry ironed the sheets and pillow cases. So wonderful and perfect and feeling like being sleeping a field of clover. Remembering when we went to sleep on those just done sheets we'd look at each other and smile thinking this was heaven.
Memories are how we learn. As we age our experience grows largely through our memories. Basically adults learn from experiences when we have a new meaningful experience we integrate it into our consciousness. The more meaningful the experience the more deeply it is embedded into our memories.
Donna's diagnosis with Stage IV cancer and her death were the most profound emotional moment(s) in my life. During treatment I focused so much on being a caregiver and supporting her my grief and pain that was there was subsumed by tasks. After her death I recognized my grief was a wound. A wound I did not shut, deny its place in my life, or ignore. I discovered light would enter through it. I learned more, new, and meaningful understandings of Donna, us, and our love. This was 100% memory driven. My memories of her and us added to my consciousness and life. It was not easy nor was it pain free. I found myself growing, even if she is not here to guide me. She was within my memories to guide me.
Memories dance with each other. They make connections to other memories. "Memories are linked to what concerns you, what you feel, and what you want." How important that memory is determines its fate in our lives. Memories are held longer and more deeply when they are part of our identity.
I referenced how independent memories collide within me to create new bolder, braver, and wonderful images. They turn from discreet captures of moments and become living narratives within me. Since these are painful and profoundly powerful memories they take seed and become a present that bleeds into the future shading and shadowing my direction. My past put into my present becomes a future. At times seen. Mostly hidden. Nice quote here "as far as our brains are concerned, the past and future are almost the same." Dang true .
Memories are fluid. They are not flat files in a map drawer. They ebb and flow dance and swim and just move with us as we add new. Like water seeking its own level and finally resting when it enters the ocean. They help us imagine and create.
The book "Donna, A Photo Memoir of Love and Loss" was created from memories old, new, and discovered. All my posts, all my SM shares, all my talking about loss love Donna is a creation from memories and enlighten my future. I'm comfortable frozen in this emotional amber.
If you’ve read this would you, in the comments, share your thoughts on memories and the loss of a loved one.