Working where I do makes me realize how precious memories really are. It saddens me to know that some people, some unlucky many, will eventually lose them all. I see it nearly everyday and still can not even come close to comprehending what that must be like. We are creatures who (maybe not all of us) tend to live in the past no matter how much we may strive to live in the present. Everything we do is influenced by what has happened in our pasts, what we've experienced, what we've known. Imagine not being able to remember any or all of that. How would you even begin to comprehend who you are?
Not being able to remember a favorite holiday.
Not being able to remember your own wedding.
Not being able to remember what day your birthday is.
Not being able to remember if you have siblings.
Not being able to remember your spouse's name.
Not being able to remember the right words or any words at all.
How debilitating this is. A cruel twist of life. Having everything we've built our lives around, everything we've built who we are around, gone from your mind. What's even more cruel: knowing that there's something missing and yet not quite knowing what. Being aware that all is not right and not being able to do anything about it. I'd rather be blissfully ignorant, but you don't reach that stage too soon in many cases.
And yet, through all this, the wonderful people I get to work with and care for, can still have a sense of humor about things. One in particular said to me one day something to the extent of 'you have to have a sense of humor about life or you'll never get through it.' Then laughed and said 'that was pretty good, huh?'
I have to say on most days I see more smiles than tears. Not every day. But most days. I'm thankful for that.
The human spirit perseveres.
Listening to: The Decemberists "Cocoon" and "Grace Cathedral Hill"
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