i have a very bad memory.
feelings i recall.
smells.
but true, clear memories are tricky.
it has always been this way. vacations get blurred down to the taste of espresso in faraway places. highschool has been melted to varsity jackets in the woods, warm cans of cheap beer, and debates in english classes. college… well….
because of this i try hard to be present. to truly look around at any given moment – great or small – and take it all in. on a molecular level i know that i may not truly be able to bring a memory completely back. sure the traveling and the hikes and the grandeur of it all is there. but who was present, what we wore, what was said… loads of it escapes me.
since i was a little girl i have journaled, written, blogged, photographed, and for the last twenty plus years posted with fairly decent regularity on social media – creating a paper and virtual trail of memories so i can find my way back.
monday morning i found myself completely locked out of facebook and instagram. there was a strange message somehow connecting videos i shared of my son talking about gems and crystals to breaking instagram code of conduct and community standards. they offered me thirty days to argue my case. hours later i was completely deleted and deactivated not only from all my metaverse social media accounts but also those i was running on behalf of a non-profit i volunteer with in town. no warning. no chance to remove the freakin fossil video (like what?!) nothing.
i was quickly and simply wiped clean off the internet.
truthfully i feel violated. robbed. unsettled. i had trouble sleeping last night. worried i wouldn’t remember a loved one’s birthday or see a memory post pop up. friends and family who departed this world could not be “requested” again. thousands of photos capturing hikes. hazy memories at filthy shore houses. dancing at shows. baseball games. the friends who merely passed through. former jobs. old flames. holidays with grandparents long gone.
and now here i am. 4am on thanksgiving morning. cornbread baking in the oven. espresso in hand. trying to remember it all. desperate to not forget anything or anyone.
as i reach the bottom of my cup, despite a still jet black sky ahead of the day, i am starting to see clearly. the moments… blurry as they may be… still happened. i watched those sunrises. i traveled with my friends. i watched the mets win and lose. i graduated high school and college. i worked so many weird jobs. i laughed and embarrassed myself on dance floors. i saw shit tons of springsteen shows. i voted. i baked. i gardened. i sat my ass down in the sand of the jersey shore over and over again. i made lifelong friendships. i lost some people along the way. i fell in love. and then fell in love again. i read. my goodness i read. i made loads of pretty awful decisions. i somehow came out the other side. i ran. i married a gorgeous man. i brought two ferocious children into this world. i prayed.
and at forty one years old i am just getting started.
