The night my Grandpa died I held his fragile hand and sat by his side but my mind was elsewhere. A flood of images, a stream of mental photographs, a million memories collaborating to fill the black hole the death of my grandfather was sure to create. Memories that would live on even as my grandfather slipped away, memories that only grew stronger as his life escaped slowly with every breath he took. Now that my Grandpa is gone these memories have become him; they have taken the shape of his big blue eyes, his wrinkled Irish face, and his trademark cap. People die but memories live, immortalizing a loved one for all of eternity. Though I will never see my Grandpa alive again, never be able to hold his hand or kiss him on the cheek, I can always visit him in my mind, in the millions of memories he has forged there throughout my life.
I believe in memories. Images, photographs, reruns deep in the mind that can be recalled easily to keep someone alive eternally. My Grandpa has left his footprints but they are not in sand; they cannot be washed away. My Grandpa’s footprints are set in stone, to exist in my memory for the rest of my life. I believe in footprints, concrete and irreplaceable; evidence of a long trek, a relationship that cannot be erased.
Memories burn and memories heal but the one thing they do for sure is immortalize; they trap one’s existence; they glaze over the footprints making them permanent. They help us to recall; they make themselves known whenever we feel alone, whenever we need our loved one the most. The memories only grow stronger as the years pass, as the gap between a loved one’s last breath and the present elongates. Memories thrive because they comfort those left behind, they keep a person alive in spirit. My Grandpa continues to exist not only in my memory but in the memories of his entire family, of everyone he has ever come in contact with. Whenever I think about him, whenever I feel the pain of his absence, I recall one of his footprints and that footprint reminds me that he is still alive.
4 comments:
I love this post so much - people do not often show their vulnerable side, but even here you still appear strong and proud. The footprints analogy really stands out, and I enjoyed the personal pictures in your video. Great job, this post really touched me!
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You cause your reader to smile recall the memories of her grandfather, few that they are, but nonetheless important to her. I sometimes wonder why I keep boxes and boxes of photographs when I so rarely look at them. Perhaps just knowing they are there is sufficient. In fact, I just purchased a new camera to record more memories. I suspect I will remember your essay now and again as I press the button that records a second of time. Thank you.
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