2012
“Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us,”— Oscar Wilde
I took this quote from John Lavan. John is a poet and his work can be found at http://poemsfromreality.blogspot.com/
At the time I read John’s Tweet, I was searching for a topic for the blog. Much as Karen’s comment seemed to inspire my thoughts in the last blog, John’s quote came along at just the right moment. Memory is an amazing thing and for those who face circumstances which rob them of their memories, it must be a fearsome thing to lose.
I have a friend with whom I often sit around talking about the old times. Wes and I have been friends for over thirty years. We’ve created a lot of memories together. Sometimes he triggers my mind to remember things I have forgotten and sometimes I do the same for him. Invariably we wander down trails and remember both good times and bad. From high school parties to camping at the edge of a clear mountain lake, the images return. The smell of bacon frying mingles with the scent of pines freshly dripping from a morning rain and I can once again feel the chill in the air of that mountain morning.
When I attend a high school football game the crisp fall air takes me back to my youth and what it felt like to strap on those pads. I can hear the snap of the chinstrap and the slap of shoulder pads as we were warming up. The smell of the fresh cut grass; the scent of the leather ball; and the aroma of fresh popcorn drifting from the concession stand window all return to me through the glorious experience of memory. I spent most of my seasons standing along the sidelines, but I can still feel the excitement as the seconds tick toward opening kickoff and I remember the shrill sound of the ref’s whistle.
Memory is much easier to access than piles of pictures and stacks of photo albums. Those photos are just a sliver of time, but they can help restart the recording within my mind. There is a picture on my desk with two little boys dressed in hiking gear. They’ve got their hand-carved hiking sticks, laced boots, and broad smiles. They stand upon a rise they traversed and the pines fill in the background. Today they are grown, each with school, jobs, and girls on their minds, but when I look at the photograph they are little once again, and it never fails to bring a smile to my face as I recall those warm memories. Sometimes it causes me to wonder if I shared enough time with them; it makes me wish I could go back and do it again just to be sure. It makes me think about all the obstacles in life they will face and if they know how simple that time in their lives will seem to them one day. Sometimes I wonder if they ever look at that picture and feel the same way.
On a wall in another room there is a large photograph of a young man in a white tux. He still has hair. Beside him is a beautiful girl in a white gown. Again, memory allows me to go back in time and revisit the day that portrait was taken and the first steps we were taking into our future together. After twenty-four years we’ve both changed in ways we probably wouldn’t have imagined on that day. In other ways we haven’t changed. I still enjoy holding her hand and sleep most comfortably when she is beside me.
Memory truly does serve as a diary we can take with us wherever we go. It sometimes holds so many riches we may even find a time when we fear losing them just as easily as those photographs would be lost to a fire, flood, or other natural disaster. In my novel, Loving Deacon, Andrew Jordan (Deacon) voices thoughts which echo that sentiment.
“Seventy years. Where have they all gone? To what place does time go when it has passed from our view? Where are all of those wonderful memories stored when we are no longer around to be the vessel which holds on to them?”
Deacon finds comfort in his memories. They allow him to return to times past and they eventually lead him to a discovery which has eluded him all of his life. He is fortunate in that way, but some people aren’t so fortunate. There are those among us who are robbed of their memories. They suffer a cruel death, often living as much as forty percent of the time they are plagued with their disease in the most severe stage. There are 5.4 million Americans living with Alzheimer’s disease. While deaths from other diseases has decreased, deaths from Alzheimer’s disease increased by sixty-six percent between 2000-2008. Two-thirds of those with the disease (3.4 million) are women. Another American develops Alzheimer’s every 69 seconds. Alzheimer’s isn’t just a memory losing disease, it is debilitating and ravaging. The disease doesn’t only affect those who are diagnosed with it; their caregivers and family members are impacted as well. These facts are readily available from the Alzheimer’s Association website http://alz.org/index.asp
September is World Alzheimer’s Month and September 21st is Alzheimer’s Action Day. For the month of September I’ve made a commitment to donate all royalties from the sales of the Loving Deacon paperback purchased on Amazon to the Alzheimer’s Association. This is just one small way in which I can help. If you were considering a purchase of Loving Deacon, I urge you to do so this month from Amazon. Here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/Loving-Deacon-1-Lemieux-Jr/dp/1453609318/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1315068352&sr=8-4
So think about it, where would you be without those memories you cherish so much? How often do those memories bring you comfort in times of turmoil? Of course we are always making memories. Each second, each hour, and each day brings with it the possibility of new memories to add to our collection. Let’s not miss a second that could help others hold on to those memories. Let’s not miss a second that could allow you to hold on to your memories. You don’t have to buy the book to help. You can visit the Alzheimer’s Association Website http://alz.org/index.asp and make a donation, but if you were going to purchase the book, do so in September on the Amazon site. Either way, you’ll be making a memory worth hanging on to –the day you helped bring an end to this horrible disease.
–Thank you to Cynthia Strohschein, Director, Strategic Communications of the Alzheimer’s Association and to the Alzheimer’s Association for allowing the use of their information and links for this article.–
