Sunday, June 27, 2010

Memory

[Sorry, I'm not sure if this is philosophical or just plain stupid.]


I think sometimes we all just wish we could all start over. To tell you the truth, there's one way you can. It's messy though: amnesia ain't a pretty thing.


I mention this because I read a book exactly about that the other day. Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac, Gabrielle Zevin. Check it out, if you like. I definitely recommend it.


My favorite quote from it:


" 'It happens, baby.' Dad nodded and patted me on the hand, and then he read my mind. 'You forget all of it anyway. First you forget everything you learned- the dates of the Hay-Herran Treaty and the Pythagorean theorum. You especially forget everything you didn't really learn, but just memorized the night before. You forget the names of all but one or two of your teachers, and eventually you'll forget those, too. You forget your junior year class schedule and where you used to sit and your best friend's home phone number and the lyrics to that song you must have played a million times. For me, it was something by Simon & Garfunkel. Who knows what it will be for you? And eventually, but slowly, oh so slowly, you forget your humiliations- even the ones that seemed indelible just fade away. You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. Who went to a good college. Who threw the best parties. Who could get you pot. You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They're the last to go. And then once you've forgotten enough, you love someone else.' "


While I read this passage, I thought about all of what it said. How can I forget my favorite song, or Dirk's phone number? How can I forget blankity-blank that I had a huge crush on, or that embarrassing event in English class freshmen year?


I've always heard [and I hope you have, too] that it won't matter who had the most popular clothes, or what girl had the biggest boobs [unless you have one of these things- I guess you'd remember later on possibly, out of shallow pride.]- it shouldn't come as a shock.


Yet, when you actually apply it to your life, it yields suprising results, agreed? I'm pretty sure when I'm old and sitting on my front porch I won't remember all that. And even if I do, it won't really matter.



That's the only part I look forward to when I'm old. I'm scared to death of dying [pun intended]; scared to death of growing up and only knowing the number to 911, my boss, my family, and my tax collector; scared to death of losing everything I know; and scared to death of medicine, shots, etc.




But I'm happy to know that the bad will fade, and eventually there'll be a point where that all doesn't matter anymore, and I realize it didn't really matter then. It's always been about happiness. It'll be the air under my wings, figuratively. That's when people can truly live in the moment- when they're old.

1 comment:

Kay said...

This is reassuring, but really scary... sure, it would be nice to forget about the embarrassing things I've done, but, yeah, I can't bear to think about forgetting the more important, seemingly irrelevant things.

if that didn't just summarize the entire post, I'd just like to say that I agree. :]