It seems to me that the older I get, the more my life and my history are shaped by defining moments.
They are not the earth shattering decisions, or life changing events. They are simple little snapshots of life that sum up that section of time. I’m sure that to the other people involved in these moments, they were throwaway comments or gestures, every day something something, nothing special to be remembered.
But I remember. Each and every one, written carefully in the journal in my head. A symbol of something important; something I need to remember.
Sometimes, it is that moment that summarises a time in your life.
When your husband makes a comment, nothing that means that much, while watching tv, that strikes to the heart of you, and you realise that your marriage is over.
When a man offers you his jacket on a cold night while walking you home underneath the stars.
When the first connection you have with your father is at your brother’s funeral, as you hold each other up and grieve together.
When five years later, you sit in bed and cry because everyone is gone and you grieve for all the people lost, and you grieve alone.
Sometimes, it is that moment when you realise just how good a friend you have.
When a friend says something in passing that doesn’t even click with you at the time, but sticks later, like a friend saying over coffee “You should have been my mother”. We laughed it off, but I thought later, that is one of the greatest compliments I have ever received, and I’ve remembered.
When a friend shows anger at someone’s poor treatment of you and thinking ‘you have my loyalty forever’.
When a friend is there for you when no one else in the world is, and they become family, someone who could ask anything of you and automatically have it granted, while knowing that they will never ask anything of you.
When friends answer the shy request of my six year old Bug and bring homegrown flowers tied with yellow curly ribbon to her first ballet concert performance, those are friends forever.
There will always be people in your life just passing through, on their way to somewhere else. You will pass through other people’s life in the same way.
Some people, some moments, though, stay forever. The people or the moment may be gone, but the memory, the mark that they have left on us, lives on.
I wonder if I have ever affected anyone in this way? What moments, that no longer exist in my memory, are carved into someone else’s?