memories

Illustrations © Barbara J Holzapfel

When my Grandpa passed away I remember my Grandma telling me how disappointed she was that, after many months of patiently waiting, she still hadn't had a visit from him. No late night spirit visions, no early morning ghostly whispers, nothing. There she was still peeling potatoes at the kitchen sink, still keeping the coffee hot for surprise afternoon visitors, still living her life, but without him. This was simply inconceivable to her. She really thought he'd come back to visit at least once.

We talked about what possible logistical nightmares he might be facing in order to return to planet earth.

a) Did he have to travel through his own lifetime events and come to terms with his mortality first? If this was the case she would understand and continue to be patient.. all of that could surely take months.

b) Did he have to argue his case to come back for a visit? If this was so who would deny a good man's request to visit his devoted wife.. especially when she was waiting so patiently?

c) He might be just taking his own sweet time visiting with old family and friends who'd passed before him. Could she blame him? Some of those loved ones have been gone for so many decades the miracle of such a wondrous reunion would throw anyone off.

And then came the inevitable fear... the burning, churning, gut wrenching possibility...

d) Had he actually forgotten about her?

The struggle of losing her sister to the Spanish Flu in the early 20th century, the birth of their beautiful children, their courageous journey across the ocean to immigrate from Sweden to Canada in 1924, and the many years spent creating unforgettable memories together.. always together.. what did it mean if it was all forgotten at the end of the day?

What if all the unforgettable memories we spend our lifetime creating are forgotten once we die? Are we only meant to live, and relive, our special life moments while we're here in this lifetime and, if so, does it make them any less precious?