Memories And What Accompanies Them

The human race is a collection of curious creatures, like dragons in a fairy tale we tend to hoard things we find valuable, these things tend not to be as valuable as silver or gold though; they can be photographs, snow globes, books, a blanket, etc. Another curiosity is how the amount of value we put in material items tends to depend on the giver and not the gift. For instance last Christmas I had an uncle I hardly speak to give me some very expensive perfume, it's been sitting in the box it came in on the bottom of my bookshelf since December and I've yet to use it once; my parents got me a notebook with a quote by Walt Disney on the cover and I have treasured it dearly. Today my mother broke a plate she's had for ages and ages, it was from the golden days when the economy was good and trips were taken and gifts given often, when I was helping her pick up the pieces and she was talking about how sad she was that it'd broken something she said stood out to me. She had a long day at work so it was in a very tired voice she said, "Your father gave that to me". I had gone years without any idea of where this plate had come from, I'd thought she'd picked it up herself to spruce up the house...It's funny how something as simple as a plate with a rooster on it can represent a person's love and a multitude of happy memories. We've moved many times over the years and each time this or that trinket of my mother's would go missing, it's a terrible thing to think of all these things that could stir up happy memories being lost in a hurricane of bubble wrap and cardboard. I myself have loads of things that broadcast flashbacks of way back when on a big screen in my brain, but here's the thing about memories, gang, even the happy ones become sad when you realize you'll never have days like those again. Places change, people lose touch, loved ones pass away...I think of it like this, for every sunny day there's some clouds later on down the line, the clouds have silver linings but they're clouds nonetheless. I understand that if we were happy all the time the good times probably wouldn't feel as good, you need a storm before you get a rainbow and all of that jazz, but the depression that accompanies looking back is one such downpour I could do without. Okay, I'm sure that the entire human race doesn't feel quite so blue when taking a stroll down memory lane but I am an over thinker and can only give can only tell you what I see when glancing behind me. That's gonna be it for now, gang. Until next time. Much Love, Gabby