Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

beach-shells 

Memories…

Stretching to eternity, like shells on never ending shores…past, present, future…so many different kinds…some smooth and light and beautiful…others rough with jagged sharp edges…uncomfortable to hold and just not very pretty…

Memories are created every moment that goes by, every moment of our lives…

Some memories fill us with joy, peace and love, some are neutral, others we do our best to avoid thinking about, they upset us, they don’t make us feel very good. The residue these memories leave behind is just too unpleasant.

Sometimes we cling to certain memories, desperately trying to remember every last detail…but the details inevitably fade over time…thank God for photos that preserve and capture scenes so perfectly. Without them so much would be lost.

Then there are memories connected to a certain smell, word, sound, look…

And what about all the memories lying beneath the surface floating in that grey land called the subconscious...These can subtly affect every area of our lives without us even realizing.

Sometimes I fear the power of memories to come…the losses that will inevitably occur…memories of youth, of my sons little fingers and chubby cheeks, of my parents not being around any more. Time waits for no-one…

Memories can climb back into your dreams…they find you there and then spill over into your waking life…shadowing you…

A few years ago I had a strange thing occur. I woke up one morning to feel that I was old…a woman in her eighties and I could feel it in every part of me that I was this age….it felt so real….and it was such an intense feeling of my life is nearly overthis is it….where had the time gone? Panic rose in my chest…I felt that I had not accomplished all that I had wanted, said all that I had wanted to say…I hadn’t believed in myself enough, I had worried and thought too much about everything, been too hard on myself, had paid too much attention to things not worth my time, too many things had bothered me….Even when I fully awoke and realized that I was not an old lady yet the feeling stayed with me for days…it made me uneasy, nervous, scared…I vowed to live from this moment on committed to making peace with people, with situations, with life…to making peace with myself, all the choices I had made and not made and just accepting and embracing who I was…Forgiving.

Memories…

A teacher I had when I was around 9 years old. I don’t even remember the words of what she said…but I remember the sound of her voice, harsh and loud and belittling at times…I would always stand there in silence, turning red with embarrassment. As an adult I learned to speak up for myself (say too much sometimes)…making up for all those years I said nothing…standing there in silence swallowing my voice, holding back the tears.

I read somewhere that we might not remember what people say but we will always remember how they made us feel…

Memories…

My Grandmother dying when I was 18 years old. Very suddenly she began to feel sick and two months later she died. I went to Germany with my mother to see her in hospital and there she lay, my Oma, who had been so full of life and energy…an active social life, a tennis player, ocean swimmer….she seemed so fearless to me…so invincible.

I played the flute for her in her hospital room….she loved that and my mother and I got her some Prosecco. She always loved her Prosecco and lay there drinking small amounts of it through a straw. Whenever I see it in a store the memory of her fills my mind with a deep yearning for her to still be here. Sometimes I get that memory rush where your eyes fill with tears in the most random of places and it takes all of your strength just to keep it together…

I miss her. My Oma…

Memories..

I remember holding our dog Prinzie in my arms last year as my father and I drove him to the vets to be put down. I focused all of myself on him in those moments….the feel of his body, his rapid breathing, his closed eyes, his beautiful black nose….I wanted to savor each of his last breaths as I stroked his head and whispered over and over again “It’s ok Prinzie, I love you”….and when I went into the room with him and held his head, I whispered again “I love you always” as they administered the injection. So much love from my heart to his…I knew this moment would forever be etched on my heart. I go back to England once a year for two weeks, and that is when he died. How honored I felt to spend his last moments with him…..Dear Prinzie…

Memories…

Memories of an intense on and off (mostly off) 8 year relationship…so intense, so much struggle, fighting, throwing things, tears…so many memories to let go of to find peace with I never thought it possible….I lost myself with this person, gave away my power, felt they were in my blood somehow….I could not live without them. I fueled memories of this person, reliving the scenes over and over again, listening to certain music, romanticising them. The reality of that person though was always far removed from all of that dreaming…

But I have moved on. I finally realized…truly realized that I deserved more than this…no. more. struggle. no. more. suffering. So here I am….still alive, still standing and stronger than I ever thought I was. Memories of this person still arise, although they no longer have a hold on me…I let them pass on by…I do not cling to them any more. What freedom this brings.

Memories…

In Peru. By myself in the middle of nowhere on a mountaintop by some remote village looking at the distant horizon…the silence was alive with what I can only describe as scintillating beauty and love. It was exquisite and magical. I seek out this memory at times for it fills me with strength and a certainty of the amazing higher forces at work. Grace.

Memories…

Mando, the horse in the field next to where we stayed on Sylt, a German island. We went to Sylt every summer growing up and my brother and I have such wonderful memories there…the wind, the sand, the beautiful cold North Sea, jumping in the waves…and Mando the horse in the field. I was fascinated by him…he was so beautiful. I have a photo of him my uncle took…it stands on the shelf above my kitchen sink and he makes me feel happy, peaceful, and nostalgic for times long gone. Mando.

Memories…

Months ago, accidentally I caught Noakai’s chin in the strap of his helmet. He screamed for a moment…and ever since then whenever I go to put it on he asks me, big brown eyes filled with such worry: “Helmet Hurt? Hurt me?” No I say, and very gently snap it together.

Months ago and this lies in his little memory bank. I remember the harsh, loud words I have spoken to him at times when I am tired and overwhelmed and I cannot help but worry if he remembers the helmet incident how he must remember these moments too on some level. People tell me: he won’t remember…but how can he not? It makes me feel bad and guilty. My little boy…

Memories…

Shells on the shore, glistening in the light…My journey, my commitment to make peace with them all…so that when I actually am an old woman I will be able to say in a strong, clear voice:

“I am free. I lived my life as best I could, loved as deeply as I could, accepted people as they were…accepted myself, forgave myself, I let things go, made my peace with it all…I followed my heart, lived a life true to myself and was grateful for every moment of it…Thank you, Thank you, Thank you…”

By Annabel Ruffell