ARTIFACTS OF MEMORY [T, 12-6-22]

REFLECTIONS ON FAITH & LIFE FOR THE YEARS OF WINTER:

THE ARTIFACTS OF MEMORY [T, 12-6-22]

 

Helen thought tea would be nice. She was right. It was late afternoon on a cold and snowy Sunday, the first one after an unusually long, warm autumn, a perfect afternoon for tea and memories. As she brought the tray in, she said, “I have two words: Bill White and fish. What’s the rest of that story?”

Her question was precipitated by the little fish-shaped dish on the tray on which to put our squeezed-out tea bags. She said, “I got this fish dish to remind me of Bill, and it’s worked, except I don’t know why the fish dish is supposed to remind me of Bill.”

This is a fairly regular and normal occurrence for old people. We can remember just enough of a story or scenario to intrigue and bedevil us. What in the name of…whatever…is the rest of that story?

I tried to think it through methodically. Bill and fish? I could not recall my late, great friend, Bill [aka, The Rev. Dr. William Luther White, PhD from Northwestern in Theology & Literature] ever fishing. He loved the outdoors, but he was the tree-hugging type, not the hunting and fishing type. I couldn’t even remember him eating a fish. He was a Christian… the fish symbol for Jesus, maybe…

Then I remembered: that poem. The one about his ancestors. The one printed in the Hutterite journal. The one he wrote shortly before his death. The one I read at his memorial service.

It was, in a way, his last words to us. So Helen wanted an artifact, a brain jogger, to remember Bill. As we thin out our possessions in old age, the ones it is important to keep are the ones that remind us of those we love. If, when we are gone, no one else knows why we kept them, that’s okay. Let them throw them away. They did their job while we had them, bringing back to mind for us the good memories.

Here’s Bill’s poem…

Some of my ancestors, I’m told,

            Were fish,

I have no pictures,

            No other details

That was a very long time ago.

 

And now, I’ve heard

            An enormous community of microbes

            Has taken up residence within

            Ten thousand different types!

            A hundred trillion creatures.

            It appears that I need these travel companions,

                        And they need me.

 

Cogito ergo sum

            Oh yes. But isn’t there something more?

            The boundaries of thought shift again:

                        “God,” / “life” / “me.”

 

John Robert McFarland