Assaulted by Memory

This morning, driving home from errands, I rounded a corner on the road.

I saw drenching April rains, grey skies, newly awakened bright green trees and grass, and the dark black asphalt cutting across and into the bright green.

In a moment, out of nowhere, I was assaulted by a memory from this same road.

Driving home at lunchtime to walk my new dog.

Same rains, same skies, same bright green tress and grass, and same dark black asphalt cutting across and into the bright green.

Pinned down and overwhelmed by the memory, I am unstuck in time.

Is it 2002? Is she waiting for me at home with her brother?

Or is it 2013? And she’s nearly two years gone, leaving just me and her brother?

As a youth, I wrote once of “Memora constantly encroaching upon reality”.

I’ve lost the pretentious words of youth, but the experience remains the same.

Sometimes, we are assaulted by memory.

The past overwhelms and overlays before we know what’s happening.

And as we reorient, reground and come back to present, we feel all we felt in between then and now in an instant.

All the joy, all the sorrow.

All the things that happened that you didn’t know was coming at the time.

I continued on the road, riding it to home.

I greeted her brother, remembered her and missed her.

I thought about how much longer he and I have together.

And then I walked him, because I refuse to let memory or fear of loss keep me from living now and building new memories.

Even if one day those same memories may assault me as well.