Material memories

Life's a one-way street for all. Yet we never know who gets off the ride when and how soon. The departure of a loved one leaves a boundless void and all you have to pour over, even if ever so fleetingly, are some material memories. 

That pair of forlorn reading glasses, the dogeared diary carrying stains from yesteryears and now some dried-up tears, a chipped piece of crockery, a hand-written greeting card, a little piece of jewellery... In holding them, you feel that fading touch, in smelling them you breathe in the bottled-out warmth. Poor consolations, and still these timekeepers help calm the oft-raging storms. 

While we learn to nurse our secret sorrows and deal with all the silent chaos, grief silently lurks around and pain lights up with the faintest tune of a distant song. At such fragile moments, it’s the material memories that bring comfort, even if cold. Once mere articles and items of sundry use, they are the last of what’s left to clutch onto, to lean on when life feels overwhelming sore and the heart’s been in smithereens for far too long.

Yes, objects are barren and know no feelings, but when the same cradle a mother’s long-lost love, or froth with a sister’s animated laugh, they breathe life on their own. Little nothings or material memories which carry us to the deep valleys of our thoughts and give us a taste of time, sweet and snug, but irredeemable.  

And then it's a different trepidation - now the keepsakes must live long, stay intact and hold on.