Everything we perceive, even for a fleeting moment, is committed—in tiny pieces across various parts of the brain—to memory. When a memory is called back up, it might be 100% accurate. Or it might not be. Pieces are jumbled like ornament hooks. A poem becomes entangled with the image of an old friend and catches…
“Above all, don’t forget. Commit everything – each blade of grass, each teary-eyed child, each unmarked grave – to memory. Then when you survive and are older, tell your story.”
Four years ago, I wrote an essay based on other people's memories. Months later, I watched rain ravage oak trees and send green leaves to an early death on the soaked lawn. I thought back to the essay then, and much, much further back, to my childhood, only to come up empty-handed as usual. (Not…
