Deep in our sub-conscious, we are told
Lie all our memories, lie all the notes
Of all the music we have ever heard
And all the phrases those we loved have spoken,
Sorrows and losses time has since consoled,
Family jokes, out-moded anecdotes
Each sentimental souvenir and token
Everything seen, experienced, each word
Addressed to us in infancy,
Before we could even know or understand
The implications of our wonderland.
There they all are, the legendary lies
The birthday treats, the sights, the sounds, the tears
Forgotten debris of forgotten years
Waiting to be recalled, waiting to rise
Before our world dissolves before our eyes
Waiting for some small, intimate reminder,
A word, a tune, a known familiar scent
An echo from the past when, innocent
We looked upon the present with delight
And doubted not the future would be kinder
And never knew the loneliness of night.
~Noel Coward “Nothing Is Lost” from Collected Verse

I wonder sometimes how memories are stored in our neurons. Do they sit on brain sulci and gyri shelves in chronological order? Or are they alphabetized, ready to be pulled and leap to the front of our awareness whenever we’re reminded by an (A)pple pie smell or a passage of a (B)ach toccata or the taste of a (C)adbury Creme Egg?

Perhaps, as we get older, they tend to mix and muddle a bit because our brain libraries are getting crowded with too much to recall and subsequently reshelf back into the proper spot. Whenever I decide to do a brain search for some long forgotten memory, it can take longer than it used to, certainly longer than a Google search does on my computer.

Then I start thinking about what can be recycled or (heavens!) trashed to make more room. Except – things get thrown away that I didn’t intend to lose…

But mostly it is all still there, nearly 70 years of recollections, some so insignificant that it is a mere dust bunny in the corner of my brain, and others still as fresh as when they happened over 65 years ago. Some memories I want to spend time mulling over and over and others can stay buried in the stacks forever as far as I’m concerned.

My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to store away the present moment with such care that I will find its memory with very little trouble. These are days to recall with warmth and delight. I want to remember them during the long and lonely nights that come unbidden at times when the power goes out. That is when I need to turn on an inner light in order to see where I’m heading.

Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand’ring far
alone
Of shadows on the stars.
~James Agee