In memory of Peyton Faith Marshal
People, things, places, ideas; they all change. Some change fast, seemingly shooting from one reality to the next in the blink of an eye. Others take longer, adjusting slowly, but surely, until at last they are something different. Never changing, however, are our memories. It is the disturbing nature of the mind that first kisses, and love, and loss, and hurt, are all meshed together forever. Is it a curse, some hellish realism, perhaps, that memories of love and joy are tainted forever with those of anger and loss? Possibly, but I find comfort in the thought that the happy moments that we love to remember wouldn’t be quite so happy without the sad ones.

I remember, a little over a year ago, I was at church when the call came. My best friend was having a hard time. Family, friends, and school all seemed to be crashing down, and dragging her with them. I remember her using words like “drowning” and “melting” to describe how alone she felt. It hurt me to; because I love her, and care for her. At this pivotal moment in her life, she had yet to suffer the worst. The first words, I remember as if they were locked away for me to replay over and over. “He’s gone.” Her father had died. She was left with memories.

What is it about memories that make us love more? What is it about memories that make us hurt more? What is it that makes us want more? It’s love. Memories bring out in us a love that we never knew was there.

I have never lost someone, but if I had, I like to think that my memories would meld them ever into my heart. Sometime memories are like loss. Both make us love more. Both can make us hurt more. Both can make us need more. The difference is that memories bring beauty from pain, and loss brings pain from beauty.

It is the disturbing nature of the mind that first kisses, and love, and loss, and hurt, are all meshed together forever. However, I choose to believe that any memory of someone you love is a good one.