Where My Memories Are Found

I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. I just moved, and not across town. I packed up my family and moved half way across the country. I don’t regret or begrudge the reasons for the move, but it has been a huge struggle. And still ongoing. And will be until the end of August.

So what’s my point?

It’s given me time to think. Time to think over big events in my life, moments seared in my brain, the days in my life that really stand out in between the moments of just getting by. And as I marveled at how you can call a place home then pack it all in a a few boxes and there’s nothing but a shadow in the paint on the wall where a shelf once sat, a song crept into my brain. In My Life by The Beatles. It summed up the moment and exactly what I was feeling.

And I looked back at the big moments again. Every one had a song. Every moment had a melody. Every single day of my life has a soundtrack and inside that record of living, is where I find my memories. So being overwhelmed, I picked up a book to read; an old favorite that feels more like a warm blanket than words bound together with glue and a worn paper binding.

As I read, I was happy to discover that each of those moments had not only music but also words that accompanied them. A book or a story, a joke, a line of movie dialogue. I remember them and in turn, they remember me. Or at least, the memories can be found inside them.

This summer has been chock full of personal growth but not without a whole lot of wandering and wondering what it is exactly I’m trying to accomplish. And in this moment of doing the simplest thing: reading a book and listening to music in order to soothe a frazzled soul, I finally figured out my goal.

I want to write words and stories that someday will become part of someone else’s memories. When they remember a time they struggled and a book got them through, or a happy summer and the story they read while lying in the sun, well, I want that book to be mine. I don’t need glory or money(although, if you want to give me some, I won’t shun you) or even to be famous, I simply want to create something that leaves a big enough mark to hold a memory.

This gives me so much freedom and purpose it’s perfect this post comes on Independence Day weekend.

So here’s to yours words and mine being big enough to not only share our stories with others but also hold others’ memories until they need them. Until then, I’ll be here listening to Here Comes The Sun and looking over that horizon.

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