Memories have a habit of resurfacing on experiencing things, such as smells, sounds, pictures and so on, that we are subjected to on a daily basis. All these small little events that happen day by day for instance can send you back decades to when you remember it as but a mere child. Those hastily grasped recalls through the maze of your memory can cause you to shudder as they send their brief but shocking kick into your consciousness. It appears sometimes as if your memories are stored up within a vault, each contained within their own little safety deposit box with those small little daily remembrances being their own personal keys into the vault of your personal depths, the museum of your life.
And our memories are the most defining thing about us, being formed from our experiences throughout the path of a lifetime. A life’s journey forms you, makes you what you are, becomes you even. What type of personality you develop probably is made, formed, set into stone from your early years as a child, the love you receive from your parents being a very fundamental aspect, a character forming one. No one can really rupture these formative years however, even though some may try hard to belittle them, to plainly forget what you once were. Those early memories are timeless, never to be forgot, a most treasured possession.
As we travel through life, as the years pass by offering new experiences, we accumulate both knowledge and possessions, a material reminder of our lives. What I believe to be most sacred however, in the time I have lived, is memory. Material items and possessions come and go, but nothing can replace your childhood memories, nothing at all. This is not to say that possessions have no importance, on the contrary, they are most certainly fundamental too. But to me, my childhood recollections are like gold dust, something so valuable, so treasured, that their memory is invaluable, a priceless artefact buried deep within the sands of time – their archaeologist being relived incidents that occur throughout your life.
We all are subjected to life’s hard knocks at some stage in our lives, and I suppose how we deal with them really depends on how tough we are. It is easy to fall to pieces over harsh, unjust, wrongful treatment, and, I expect many people do. I believe it is a true test of Faith whether we succumb to these discriminatory occurrences, maybe dealt by an unlucky deck of the playing cards of life, or maybe something working deliberately against you, and that Faith could be either a belief in a higher authority, God if you like, or even a strong conviction of who and what you were prior to this treatment.
I write this now, at a stage in my life where I have been dealt a bad hand. I suppose I write to keep myself relatively intact, but I believe, or at least I sincerely hope, that we are all strong enough to overcome the difficulties presented to us in life. In my case, my difficulties arose I believe because I had a pretty traumatic childhood, loosing my Mother when I was just a young teenager. My Mother was everything to me, my whole world, the one parent who guided me, taught me, read books to me as a child, loved me unconditionally as her son. She showed me love and warmth; she made me feel that I was such a special, special child. Loosing her when I was just a mere thirteen year old boy had an effect upon me that really, when I search deep within myself and look back, totally ruptured my life – and still has an effect on me to this day that is so profound in its significance that there rarely is a moment that goes by that I do not think of her.
Again, these are memories, and to me they are relived through daily events, their safety deposit boxes searching for the key that sets them free. Sometimes these keys are old photos, pictures now faded through the passage of the years, images that expose a time of happiness and joy; faded, certainly, but never ever forgot, cemented into memory for all of eternity, or at least your time here on this Earth. Memories that I believe that are so vital to your soul, sanity and existence.
Kev L Sparrow's Blog. 