The Burden of Memory

I heard an odd scraping noise behnd me. I was out for a walk with Paul and the dogs, Paul and Jody bounding ahead, Blackie and I dragging our asses along. It was cold. I was examing the pattern of white ice in the cracks of black asphalt-- lace--when I heard the scraping sound.

I turned to look. It was my neighbor, a gentleman of seventy or so, old enough to have that transparent look people get when they are preparing for fade out. He was pulling a sled.

My first thought was "Oh, no. He'll put himself in the hospital."  But he looked so happy, pulling his sled up the hill.

Turns out the sled is old, a Fearless Flyer, circa back in the day. He had bought it for his kids and as he pulled it along it bore all the memories of playing in the snow years ago. More than that: my neighbor went to school with the offspring of the man who first designed and marketed American Flyers, so the sled carried those memories as well.

He was going to pull that sled up the hill and slide back down and make another memory.

I thought about his sled as we walked away. If I was one of his kids I would treasure that sled. I would hang it on the wall like an icon.

Would throwing the sled away be throwing the memories away? Is it grasping to hang on to objects that hold memories? If so, then I am a very grapsing person because I keep all kinds of stuff for the memories: scrapbooks, albums, over twenty diaries, my display case of sacred objects...When I die my heirs will have a hell of a mess to clean up. What will Emily and Kate do with all my memories?

I hope they don't feel burdened by them. It will be OK if it all goes in the trash.

There's a quote to the effect that an unexamined life is not worth living. Ann Landers says that an unlived life is not worth examinng. My diaries are remarkably vacous but the other stuff is all related to living my life and I keep all that stuff as part of examing it. I want to hang on to memories until I have no need of them. I am fortunate in that the memories I need are of people I loved, animals I loved, or times when I was happy. I need those memories because they are who I am.

Is that grasping?

Probably but it is a happy burden.