Never Forget to Remember

Ever notice how everything seems to accelerate as the year nears it's end? I'm already living on 2008 time. Forward is the word at the forefront. Why should this be so? Why do the last two months of the year seem almost compressed into one?

I don't have the answer. I'm just a bystander, neither innocent or guilty, or perhaps both, of joining that crush. What I do know is that it takes a toll. Nerves fray, voices rise in pitch and volume, and words sometimes sting like arrows of outrage. We take to opposite corners of the ring and come out swinging, metaphorically. Then there are the sad and silent types, who internalize the hurt. And every shade of pain in between.

What if there was something we could do, other than succumbing to chemicals, to help us maintain and restrain our attitudes, the proverbial angels of our better nature sitting on our shoulders?

I have a habit, good or bad depending on how one perceives it, of saving cards that I've received over the past thirty years. Birthdays, anniversaries, Father's days, Valentines days. Boxes upon boxes. They're stuffed into and poking out of every nook and cranny I can commandeer. I've been meaning to organize them for the past thirty years, too. Procrastination overpowers me and they remain stashed. Recently, I decided to take another stab at it. Pulling out the piles from my closet floor, I started to sort them by event and year. This necessitated that I open each one to seek a date. When none could be found I resorted to reading them for a clue or memory-jogger.

As I read, my curiosity was overcome by the feelings that were evoked by the words on those sheets of Hallmark. It was almost as if they were written to someone else. How could these emotional tsunamis have washed over me so completely, ultimately becoming relegated to these impersonal boxes in the closet?

Forward motion, that's how. Leaving those old missives in it's wake while the next batch lay bundled, waiting for a date. And those, too, will most likely be tossed aside once it's over. And that's a terrible shame. Because within them are the voices of those we love, frozen in time, reminding us that no disagreement is so great, no position so powerful that it can overshadow the positive prose in those papers.

This is not meant to be a thesis on nostalgia. Quite the contrary. What I would ask is that, when next you find yourself hyperventilating or just venting in your haste to keep up, slow down. Find your cache of old cards and just read. You'll be amazed at how those old sentiments will snap you back to what really matters. Always did, always will. Reminders of how we were, and are, still loved. And remember - as four wise men once said: All you need is love.