There are memories that stay in our minds and that come to the surface here and there like little treasures when we look for something in our apartment and come across certain objects. These memories can hang on a piece of paper, on a box or in a corner somewhere in the house when we find a photo of us when we were so young or the now yellowed letter from an old love. When the old memories of our youth come up again – things that were long gone and forgotten, but which have slumbered somewhere, in a hidden corner of our memory – these moments are bittersweet.
“Big mistakes leave big memories.”
Then it’s Vega
I hope you love memories as much as I do – those memories in each of us that pop up from time to time and that make us laugh or cry.
This rose, which we kept dry in a book, reminds us of a long time ago when we were innocently in love for the first time; our grandmother’s cookbook, who put so much effort into it for us; this diary, which we had long since forgotten and which now brings back many past memories in us – good and bad.
I can remember one day when we found my grandfather’s old diary. He had written it with such eagerness that he could not finish it. And that’s how life goes. I never met my grandfather. And so these words marked a beginning and an end for me.
When I began to read aloud from his writings, I found myself sitting there very still, completely immersed in the moment, like in a movie. I was completely overwhelmed by all the feelings and felt like I had traveled back in time. In my very own way, I met my grandfather, that old man who looked back on his childhood and all the stories and told of the adventures he had as a little boy – just like I have many the same stories Male had heard from his beloved companion, my grandmother.
At that moment , my grandfather’s words were so powerful that I felt very close to him, even though I had never met him. At that moment his words seemed to have the will that his youngest granddaughter, who never had the chance to meet him personally, would get to know him that way.
His stories were so beautiful that I forgot all about them and just kept reading. From his pranks at school to his relationships with those close to him … until his words fell silent forever
That day we learned once more that he had passed away way too early and although we would never have the opportunity to sit on his lap and hear the stories from his mouth, his words seemed to us on that unforgettable afternoon to have achieved … that afternoon of memories.
One might think that those memories were lost in the sands of time and somewhere hidden. But in the end they reappeared.
It’s the little things that make us hide in a corner
with a rose, a piece of paper or a small box.
Like a thief peeking out from behind the door
, they have grabbed you
and like a fallen leaf that is carried
here soon by the wind, they
smile sadly at
you and make you cry
when no one is looking.
Joan Manuel Serrat
Have you ever experienced the amazing power of memories that make you cry when no one is looking?