Flashes of Memory

The human memory works in strange ways. You would think it would function more like hardware - store a memory, retrieve a memory. Not so. More often than not, memories come in fits and spurts. They can be triggered by sounds, smells, songs, or sometimes... they are forced out.

Sitting at a funeral recently, I started thinking about the day my Dad passed away. As I mentioned in my previous post, I was with him. In vague generalities, I remember the day. I can remember the exact sequence of events that transpired that day. I can remember the sounds. But one memory escaped me for more than ten years.

In a flash, I had a memory of me attempting CPR on my Dad.

This may seem a trivial memory to dredge up, but in that instant, I realized - with the utmost clarity - my failure on that day. Having had years to work through my loss, I rationalize that there was nothing more I could do... but all that went out of my head as I re-lived those few minutes of trying to get my Dad to breath again.

Alone in my head, I sat there helplessly. Had I done all I could? Did I do it right? It doesn't really matter, though - my Dad is still gone.

I remember hating the show "Rescue 911" for years after my Dad passed. I would watch and get so angry - the happy endings they showed at the end of each episode, only fueled my anger. There was no happy ending for my Dad.

And yet, I am not haunted by that day as much as you would think. In those flashes, it all comes back, but as with all memories, they soon recede into the depths and are replaced by new ones. Not better ones, just new ones. Memories of my niece being born after my Dad passed. Memories of more nieces joining soon after. Memories of my own wife and kids.

In the end, it's not the flashes that matter - but the entire story they tell.