“Today last year at 2:45 AM my Nana passed. She left behind…”
“Today 5 years ago we lost our favorite furry Sprout. Still miss you bud!”
“On this day 2 months ago my uncle John was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. If you don’t know about this disease…”
Last week I had a day when my Facebook feed sported a noticeable density of these mostly wistful reminiscences. It caught my attention because I am acutely aware of time (one of those people with no watch who still always knows the hour and the minutes), yet unrelentingly present. Often on a Monday I cannot recall how I spent the just-elapsed weekend.
The examples above are large, tragic, indelible, it’s fitting that they etch into the consciousness. But I have doubts about my emotional time stamps. My parents’ divorce, the deaths of friends, a moderately recent, sufficiently deep heartbreak, are all available to me in emotional 4D with smell-o-vision. The experience of those moments is just a breath away and yet I could probably not do much better than naming the year they occurred.
I wouldn’t be thinking about any of this, except my life changed recently, and I think I would like to remember the date. If only just to ask myself the question in 5 years, “What did you do with what you understood on August 26, 2015?” Will it all loom as large as it has in these past two weeks? Will the sea change within me show on the shores of my public life.
Okay, that was a little…
Anyway, I’ve written it down now. Perhaps I will remember to look back. And for those of you who can’t help but look back on certain dates, I am sorry for your pain.