MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “memories”

De-cluttering memories

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

He arrived to find tens of cardboard boxes stacked outside the back door ready for use.

He stepped inside cautiously like a cat tiptoeing around obstacles.

Hello? Anyone here?

I’m in here!” His mum’s voice was faintly heard from the attic.

She was sitting around a series of memories, handkerchief in hand.

I saw a fridge dumped on the way home yesterday; so I decided to de-clutter the house”, she explained.

He looked around. There was a lifetime of objects, which to him didn’t mean much.

In our time, when something broke, we fixed it instead of throwing it away”.                           

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A white pause

©Dale Rogerson

They had been planning the event for months. It was something that had caused many hours of stress, conflict, intense disagreement, even tears. But it was also what made them happy, because it was going to mark the beginning of a bright future together. They believed it.

But very often, it doesn’t matter what plans you make.

Life happens regardless.

And things capsize abruptly.

That day it snowed heavily. Everything was so beautiful in white. Everything but her.

He cried a stream of tears because he remembered their first snow day together.

They were so in love then. So different.

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Lessons from an hourglass

©MCD

It was an object he knew very well. It was how his grandmother had taught him to keep time when cooking. Now, as a prominent, chef he had more technologically-advanced resources to measure time, but the hourglass remained his favourite good-luck charm. For him it was a symbol of love, care and safety. Through it, he felt his grandmother still present, along with the sense of security she emanated, and the determination he was filled with – when around her – to make her proud.

At times of hardship, he would sit in silence watching the sands slip down the center of the hourglass, observing how fast time passed. It often took a while before he remembered that “the greatest amount of wasted time is the time not getting started” (Dawson Trotman); the time not spent with people we love, doing what we’re passionate about, having fun and enjoying life.

His grandmother had told him that “time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters. You turn the hourglass upside down every now and then, to keep time running. Your life does that to you too”.

It took a while before he fully understood what she meant.

Snow frames

© Dale Rogerson

He wasn’t the person who would delve into silence or let others see his feelings. It was something that bothered her, because she couldn’t tell what was going on inside him.

For the past couple of nights, he couldn’t sleep, as if he was waiting for the sun to rise.

Outside the window, not a single noise could be heard. The snow was still fresh, and the snowplough had cleared a path.

She loved snow; it transformed her into a child.

He missed that. That feeling of innocence, playfulness and excitement.

He missed the person he became by her side.

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Cherished buttons

©Jean L. Hays

He didn’t sew often, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t good at it. He knew how to do household chores and would always help his wife whenever possible.

His children looked up to him as the superhero he tried to prove he was. It was amusing when they were young and inspiring when they got older.

It’s what she missed most about him.

She still cherished the jacket they bought together. It held fondly so many memories. But what was most significant about it, is that when the button fell off, he was the one that sew it back on.

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Box of Memories

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Three words. Four sides. A lifetime. A box, however big or small, is used to store things you don’t want to throw away, yet don’t want them in plain sight. The box we most cherish is the one that holds our memories. Some keep it inside their head. In that special place with all the thoughts they love to bring to mind. Others have a physical container filled with memorabilia from times that were too special for them to ever forget.

Each memory box is unique for every person who has one. Because not everyone has the same perception of the things that matter. Some people are overly sensitive, saving theatre tickets, beer caps, hand-written notes, printed photos, even dried-up flowers. They are things that encase more than a simple memory; a feeling that is worth remembering. Because it was at that time when they felt serene, loved and happy. When they believed that ‘forever’ is more than just wishful thinking but rather a word that could gain the meaning they want if they try hard enough.

Others have boxes with fewer things: books, music, photo frames, souvenirs, even clothes. More practical entities of what a memory entails.

But all have something in common: the memories we create are the feelings that make us stronger, more optimistic and resilient. They are proof that happiness does exist and will last as long as you are willing to nourish it.

No matter how many boxes of memories we create, we must all believe in the beauty of a happy ending. And the fact that we each deserve one.

Marked hearts

©Roger Bultot

“Do you remember this part of our walk on our first date, when we timidly held hands? I was trembling with excitement. Your smile illuminated the entire cloister.

And then I turned and looked into your eyes. They were sparkling.

I still remember our first kiss. How can I ever forget?

You came into my life for a brief moment and left your mark on it forever”.

She held the old photo in hand and read his handwritten letter as she walked along the cloister.

It took him a decade to find her.

And now she had come to him.

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Acts of Kindness

©Renee Heath

How can we turn that frown upside down?” Grandfather asked the young boy with his right hand extended before him. In it was a red candy-stick. The boy immediately smiled as he grabbed the sweet.

It was incidents like this that had remained imprinted in memory.

Like a hot beverage to soothe a bleeding soul. Or a tight hug from a person you loved to make the troubles go away.

It was even excursions for camping in the mountains to clear your head.

Eventually, he realised it was not the things themselves that mattered. It was the acts of kindness.

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May you always…

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There are certain things you (can) do to get your mind off certain circumstances. Especially when those thoughts cause a change in mood, dishearten you and bring you down. One of the most recommended one is to clean the house. It is the best way to keep yourself occupied. Plus you get the added bonus of having a clean lodging afterwards.

When Marie put on her rubber gloves and took to general cleaning, she never expected the surprise she found wedged between the living room wall and the bookcase.

It was a note folded in four. It appeared worn in the sands of time.

It was handwritten in a blue pen with calligraphic lettering that revealed sentiment in the script.

May you live each day as if it is a wonder. May you revel at each new experience. May you never cease to learn, to read, to live. May you always be inspired by everything around you so that you too may be the inspiration for those around you. May you acknowledge your worth even when others don’t.  May you never stop caring for others, no matter who they are, small or big, two-legged or four-legged, bigger or smaller. May you dream, aspire, struggle, accomplish. May you comprehend that we achieve something even in our failures. May you be brave enough to survive the hardships, take the tough choices and be courageous enough to change things when it is time. May you always smile. May you never stop believing in magic.

It was signed ten years ago. Love, mum.

Sculpted memories

js-brand-tree

©J.S. Brand

The things you remember are the things that are strange. The ones out of the ordinary, that are often nothing like expected.

When Mario told her he had a surprise-picnic planned, what immediately sprung to mind was something romantic, in a green field, with tall trees, flowers, silence and plenty of fresh air for them to breathe in and relax. They would also preferably be alone.

What happened though, was something Marisol could never forget. Mario took her to the neighbourhood park, where he prepared a mini-barbecue, under a sculpted tree.

He said this would surely create a lasting memory.

 

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