Memories are what give our lives meaning. We remember the time you and your friend jumped into each other mid-air during the Inferi scene in "The Half-Blood Prince." We swoon when we find a love letter we tucked away and maybe even shed a tear or two. We think about how good food tasted, and we complain about how long a line was in the dead of summer. We laugh at our own, our friends’ and random people’s stupidity. I detail my personal and travel journals with as much description as possible, so when I go back and read it or allow my future children to see what I did with my life, it would be easy to slip into the memory.īecause it’s not just the memory itself we cling to we cling to the emotions it evokes and remember how a certain place, person or day made us feel. What did it smell like? How did it make me feel? Did the heat stick to your skin?ĭid the Paris Metro really smell like absolute garbage? (Okay, if I could forget anything, it would be that.) When setting up a scene or even just telling a story about something in my life, you need to use as much detail as possible. I love noticing small idiosyncrasies or the way someone’s hair never stays in place. One of my favorite aspects of being a writer is paying attention to detail. We flip through scrapbooks, click through photo streams and remember all the best parts. We wouldn’t be able to lose ourselves in a daydream of a vacation behind us, or the promise of a great one ahead in a boring class or tedious workday. Without them, we wouldn’t have stories to tell each other. Our memories, as clichéd as it sounds, are our greatest treasures. There are pictures of my friends, concert ticket stubs, Broadway playbills, Comic-Con badges, chocolate from Austria, a trinket from here, a random bauble from there.Įverything I am surrounded by is attached to a memory, and each person I love is a collection to remind me what I’ve experienced. When I look around my bedroom, I am surrounded by memories. That’s one of my deepest fears, especially as a writer. What would it be like to look at a photo and not remember taking it, let alone the location or date? To forget where you placed your keys five minutes ago or where you live or your most told stories? How horrible would it be to look at the faces of the ones you love and not recognize them? Granted, there is definitely not a history of it in my family, and it’s unlikely that I’ll develop it, but with emails every other day asking, “Are you at risk? Have you started your exercises?ĭownload this app NOW to sharpen your mind," I start to wonder if it’s just going to happen anyway. If I didn't have that anymore, who would I even be? I know I would be terrified. My mind is kind of all I have it’s my best asset. Then, as I thought about it later that night, I began to think of what it would be like to be going through the disease myself. When my best friend told me her dad was suffering from early stages, I first felt sad for her and her wonderful family. I am absolutely terrified of developing Alzheimer’s. However, one very real fear of mine is suffering from memory loss. I have the standard ones, like going broke and not being able to pay for my car, letting down people I care about and a handful of other weird, irrational fears. I suppose this is a treasured memory more because of who it was with rather than what happened.In my short almost 26 years, I have graduated from having minimal fears to having weird fears. There was a couple of shop owners who had used the empty street and the abundance of snow to create little snow men outside which we both ended up taking pictures with and just having a nice day out together. I believe it ended with at least 11 for Anna and about 5 for me- which was a nice change because I've always been the clumsier one. Thinking it was funny when the other fell, we started keeping count of how many times it was. As we walked around with hot chocolate and just enjoyed out day out together, we did a lot of slipping and falling. Neither of us were in the best ice/ snow weather clothing, but converse had not been a smart move for either of us. Since we live in London, the places we normally go usually have a lot of tourists, but this time, because of how icey and cold it was. A few years ago, it had been snowing a lot and school was cancelled so instead of going home or to a park to mess around in the snow, a friend and I decided we would go into town.
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