“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.”
- Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
There is only so much your memory can hold on to
before the images become a vague fog. Life is always occurring, even when
you are not. Memories get pushed back, as your life keeps moving forward. Yet,
it’s the memories that you wish to remember forever that seem to always have a
place in the front of the line.
This spot, this image, this trip, will always be
one of the first images in the front of the line. It is the last place all of
us traveled together as a family of five. How each of us will remember it
varies, due to age, and experiences. I was lucky enough to be 18 and realize
the importance of this trip. My sister on the other hand was only 6. Yes, she
knew he was sick, but at that age who can really understand the importance of
“one last time.”
Every image and every memory is as unclear as the
view of the Golden Gate Bridge throughout an early morning in San Francisco.
Funny, because that is the exact place where my mind wanders back to any time
I think of the last time where we were us, a family of five.
