A few days ago, my father and I were talking via Skype, and he posed a question to me. I thought it would be a great question for a blog post.
He asked me, "at which point does a moment become a memory?" Is it after you take the mental picture, or years later when you're looking back at photos of your childhood? Is it the split second that you take a picture in your mind?
I think a moment becomes a memory the day after that memory is made. We store it in the large filing cabinet that we call our brain, and then, at times, when we need it, we take it out and examine it. We hug it to ourselves to bring us comfort when we are sad or laugh when we need to be cheered up.
Memories buoy us up when we can't seem to find the energy to go on, and they are etched into us when we don't have the people around us anymore.
Memories can also bring back regrets or make us think of things we didn't do or should have done. If anyone were to tell me, "I don't have regrets," I would shake my head and say, "yes, you do." Everyone has them. There's no one person in the world that does not have regrets.
I guess these are all rhetorical questions that I need answers to, but I would like you, my readers, to weigh in on this very personal question, and I hope all of you make a beautiful memory today!