Aphorism – a pithy observation which contains a general truth.
“The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself. As if the things we’d done were less real and important than they had been hours before.”
-John Green, The Fault In Our Stars
Yet then there is this:
“You are creating the emotional pain that you feel.
You cannot control what others do”
Don’t compare yourself to others. Nearly everyone is winging it. Life, itself, is an experiment
A philosophic Aussie writes here at StPA, one who will readily admit to loving Scandinavia. I'm interested in global politics and what drives us to be who we are. Scratch the surface and you'll find a practical Environmentalist with an egalitarian bent, trying to unleash a little creativity via the written word.
Scandinavian culture, literature and traditions are close to my heart, even though I'm Australian. Travel and courteous discussions greatly broaden the mind, so I travel if I can and am always up for a vigorous, respectful discussion. I'm an avid reader, I enjoy photography and craft, particularly traditional art forms. I hope you'll find 'Something to Ponder About,' in my WordPress Community.
View all posts by Forestwood
35 thoughts on “Easter Aphorism”
That co-remembering thing .. how incredibly true it is !
As well, Amanda – there’s the co-enjoyment of shared music .. the same negativity applies.
Given your close relationship with ‘Stringer,’ I suspect that co-remembering ‘thing’ hits home for you more than for some others. It is incredibly sad to think about. That a joyous memory can be associated with such gut-wrenching grief.
Can you share any tips that have helped you cope, M-R?
All I can say is that I have alway refused to accept his absence.
I talk to him – aloud, I mean – constantly; and I’ve found that doing so does help with remembering some of our life.
Talking to one’s departed spouse/friend/relative is not a bad or unhealthy approach, M-R, when the grief is too much to bear. I remember an old boss of mine, an only child who had lost his Mother and never married was completely bereft and so alone after her death. I gently suggested that he go easy on himself and pretend that his Mum was still around, until such time as he could come to terms with it, if ever. If we don’t talk to departed souls aloud, many people will speak to them with their inner voice. Your relationship with Stringer sounds like two souls melded into one. How can that ever be the same for you, now you both have been ‘cleaved,’ apart? My Grandmother who was widowed fairly young, would say my Grandfather, whom I never met, would ‘visit’ her sometimes. It was obviously a self-comforting thought to her, but hearing that as an 8-year-old, it creeped me out thinking he was a ghost.
Absolutely correct and many thanks for your comment, Bitabout Britain.
Life is not any kind of rehearsal.
Once the moment passes, we can not ‘Ctrl Z’ life. We cannot haul it back again. There are no re-do-s. The moment/day/event remains just a bit of electrical activity in the memory cells in our brain. A reminder to make the most of every moment and – most important of all be present.
Also / the John Green snippet really reminded how powerful it can be to share a memory with someone / one in which is not the same if they are no there to explore memory lane with!
That movie and story the Fault in Our Stars was a movie that is not easily forgotten. The tragic storyline and punchy prose hits home as cancer touches so many families with tragic consequences. As I mentioned to M-R, it is so terribly sad that a joyous memory is transformed into a feeling of emptiness and loss, something that is no longer pleasant. We can still treasure these moments if we have processed our grief. It kind of leads into the quote about the emotional pain. Energy is constantly shifting and sometimes folks appear to get stuck in that emotional pain, and hold themselves unwittingly in that difficult place. Is it through some misguided feeling that we can keep those departed close and alive?
I don’t really know – if it is a misguided feeling – hmmmm ‘
but you really covered a lot about grief and the different ways people process (or fail to adapt)
Thank you, dear Ju-Lyn. There is no rule or guidebook for life that is universally appropriate.
I hope you are enjoying the joy that Easter brings.
We ARE all winging it.
That quote about losing your partner who has joint memories is absolutely sad. It is like losing an arm or leg…..it can never be replaced in the same way again. It was surprsing that a movie from Hollywood that wasn’t a massive blockbuster could be so poignant.
I like the concept of co-remembering. Everyone from my childhood is long gone, so I have no one to remember events with. It’s an odd feeling because if I tell you my memories you may be politely interested, but without someone to nod their head in tandem with me it’s kind of hollow to talk about those events. Luckily I’m good at winging it.
Ally, I am glad you are good at winging it! And I like your point about co-remembering in a broader sweep. Memories includes those from own childhood – those days and moments filled perhaps with older relatives, neighbours and friends, Grandparents and Aunts etc. When they go, we sometimes reflect and wish we could chat to them one more time. Of course, this doesn’t include all of the memories!!! Some are best forgotten. For those which we wish to remember, I think is reason enough and why it is important to me to document or write them down, in some fashion. Even if I embellish the memory by creating a fictional character from a person that once lived, or shared a memory with me, it seems to add a new layer, giving that memory another chance to shine. (metaphorically speaking, of course!)
The remembering without the other is so true. I lost my sister in October, she was older than me and my check-point for things I didn’t quite remember fully. So often over these last months I think of telling her something I remembered, but she’s not there and no one else is either.
It is sad that your sister and the others with those memories are gone, Dorothy. When my own Mother was ill, my Father lamented that as she was the youngest and last surviving child of her family, she felt alone in her final months of illness. No co-rememberers left.
I don’t think you are the only one to have this – ‘oh hang on, that’s right, she’s gone,’ kind of moment. An old friend who was very close to her Mother did also, for years after her Mother’s death, catch herself thinking, “Oh I must ring Mum and tell her about this or that event,” when something significant happened. Then she would realize she couldn’t ring her as she was no longer around. Grief sneaks up and catches you, sometimes. Hugs.
All true Amanda. I console myself by still talking to her like she was still there. Sometimes I hear her answer. I guess that’s how we keep them close.
Indeed. When two people have been so close in their lives, it is hard to believe that energy cannot continue despite the other being over the horizon where we cannot see.
Agreed in the entirety. My son stays with his ex-wife partly because she is one of the few that remembers his father. Losing him so young reshaped my children. I feel as MR does. I speak openly and loudly to the departed. Their energy survives their bodies so I can still give them a piece of my mind. 🙂
Losing a parent does indeed shape a child. My mother was so traumatised by the loss of her own Mother as a 3-year-old, it affected her ability to nurture her two children and most of her relationships in positive ways. She chose to not process her grief and was stuck perhaps because she could not speak to her Mother as she didn’t really know her, describing her as a faceless person. But she was not the only one to suffer loss such as this. Perhaps the lack of having any memories to co-remember paired with a great desire to have such memories was something she could not reconcile. Such grief can consume you until you process it. For your son, keeping memories alive with someone who co-remembers sound indeed like one way to stave off the pain of accepting mortality. There is definitely value in speaking to the departed with your inner voice or out loud and I think is a healthy way to process those really significant, hard-hitting emotions. Bottling them up never seems to work!
I have to admit that in reading your last sentence, I expected to read some fond words and memories and smiled a big smile when I read that you “can still give them a piece of your mind.” That too is totally valid. Memories are both positive and negative, and both are valid memories, so our reactions in processing grief can be similarly two-fold as well. And that is also valid.
Something to Ponder About 
That co-remembering thing .. how incredibly true it is !
As well, Amanda – there’s the co-enjoyment of shared music .. the same negativity applies.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Given your close relationship with ‘Stringer,’ I suspect that co-remembering ‘thing’ hits home for you more than for some others. It is incredibly sad to think about. That a joyous memory can be associated with such gut-wrenching grief.
Can you share any tips that have helped you cope, M-R?
LikeLiked by 1 person
All I can say is that I have alway refused to accept his absence.
I talk to him – aloud, I mean – constantly; and I’ve found that doing so does help with remembering some of our life.
LikeLike
Talking to one’s departed spouse/friend/relative is not a bad or unhealthy approach, M-R, when the grief is too much to bear. I remember an old boss of mine, an only child who had lost his Mother and never married was completely bereft and so alone after her death. I gently suggested that he go easy on himself and pretend that his Mum was still around, until such time as he could come to terms with it, if ever. If we don’t talk to departed souls aloud, many people will speak to them with their inner voice. Your relationship with Stringer sounds like two souls melded into one. How can that ever be the same for you, now you both have been ‘cleaved,’ apart? My Grandmother who was widowed fairly young, would say my Grandfather, whom I never met, would ‘visit’ her sometimes. It was obviously a self-comforting thought to her, but hearing that as an 8-year-old, it creeped me out thinking he was a ghost.
LikeLike
Any 8-y-o would’ve reacted like that. 🙂
LikeLike
I suppose so
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very wise to remember that Nearly everyone is winging it. Also – it isn’t a rehearsal; this is it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Absolutely correct and many thanks for your comment, Bitabout Britain.
Life is not any kind of rehearsal.
Once the moment passes, we can not ‘Ctrl Z’ life. We cannot haul it back again. There are no re-do-s. The moment/day/event remains just a bit of electrical activity in the memory cells in our brain. A reminder to make the most of every moment and – most important of all be present.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Cheers to your post with photos and the closing thought on NOT comparing
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, dear Yvette. It seems that a few people, including me, found that quote thought-provoking. Enjoy the holidays.
LikeLiked by 1 person
hope you had a pleasant holiday too
LikeLike
Thanks Yvette.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Also / the John Green snippet really reminded how powerful it can be to share a memory with someone / one in which is not the same if they are no there to explore memory lane with!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That movie and story the Fault in Our Stars was a movie that is not easily forgotten. The tragic storyline and punchy prose hits home as cancer touches so many families with tragic consequences. As I mentioned to M-R, it is so terribly sad that a joyous memory is transformed into a feeling of emptiness and loss, something that is no longer pleasant. We can still treasure these moments if we have processed our grief. It kind of leads into the quote about the emotional pain. Energy is constantly shifting and sometimes folks appear to get stuck in that emotional pain, and hold themselves unwittingly in that difficult place. Is it through some misguided feeling that we can keep those departed close and alive?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t really know – if it is a misguided feeling – hmmmm ‘
but you really covered a lot about grief and the different ways people process (or fail to adapt)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Perhaps misguided wasn’t the best word??
LikeLiked by 1 person
well great post and the message was good
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Nearly everyone is winging it” 💗💗💗
Happy Easter Amanda!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, dear Ju-Lyn. There is no rule or guidebook for life that is universally appropriate.
I hope you are enjoying the joy that Easter brings.
We ARE all winging it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That quote about losing your remembering partner…wow, so sad and so moving.
LikeLike
That quote about losing your partner who has joint memories is absolutely sad. It is like losing an arm or leg…..it can never be replaced in the same way again. It was surprsing that a movie from Hollywood that wasn’t a massive blockbuster could be so poignant.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like the concept of co-remembering. Everyone from my childhood is long gone, so I have no one to remember events with. It’s an odd feeling because if I tell you my memories you may be politely interested, but without someone to nod their head in tandem with me it’s kind of hollow to talk about those events. Luckily I’m good at winging it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ally, I am glad you are good at winging it! And I like your point about co-remembering in a broader sweep. Memories includes those from own childhood – those days and moments filled perhaps with older relatives, neighbours and friends, Grandparents and Aunts etc. When they go, we sometimes reflect and wish we could chat to them one more time. Of course, this doesn’t include all of the memories!!! Some are best forgotten. For those which we wish to remember, I think is reason enough and why it is important to me to document or write them down, in some fashion. Even if I embellish the memory by creating a fictional character from a person that once lived, or shared a memory with me, it seems to add a new layer, giving that memory another chance to shine. (metaphorically speaking, of course!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
The remembering without the other is so true. I lost my sister in October, she was older than me and my check-point for things I didn’t quite remember fully. So often over these last months I think of telling her something I remembered, but she’s not there and no one else is either.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is sad that your sister and the others with those memories are gone, Dorothy. When my own Mother was ill, my Father lamented that as she was the youngest and last surviving child of her family, she felt alone in her final months of illness. No co-rememberers left.
I don’t think you are the only one to have this – ‘oh hang on, that’s right, she’s gone,’ kind of moment. An old friend who was very close to her Mother did also, for years after her Mother’s death, catch herself thinking, “Oh I must ring Mum and tell her about this or that event,” when something significant happened. Then she would realize she couldn’t ring her as she was no longer around. Grief sneaks up and catches you, sometimes. Hugs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
All true Amanda. I console myself by still talking to her like she was still there. Sometimes I hear her answer. I guess that’s how we keep them close.
LikeLike
Indeed. When two people have been so close in their lives, it is hard to believe that energy cannot continue despite the other being over the horizon where we cannot see.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish you to Happy Easter Holiday. You sharing co-remembring. very interesting words written you..
LikeLike
Thank you, Raj. I do hope your Easter was peaceful and joyous.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Agreed in the entirety. My son stays with his ex-wife partly because she is one of the few that remembers his father. Losing him so young reshaped my children. I feel as MR does. I speak openly and loudly to the departed. Their energy survives their bodies so I can still give them a piece of my mind. 🙂
LikeLike
Losing a parent does indeed shape a child. My mother was so traumatised by the loss of her own Mother as a 3-year-old, it affected her ability to nurture her two children and most of her relationships in positive ways. She chose to not process her grief and was stuck perhaps because she could not speak to her Mother as she didn’t really know her, describing her as a faceless person. But she was not the only one to suffer loss such as this. Perhaps the lack of having any memories to co-remember paired with a great desire to have such memories was something she could not reconcile. Such grief can consume you until you process it. For your son, keeping memories alive with someone who co-remembers sound indeed like one way to stave off the pain of accepting mortality. There is definitely value in speaking to the departed with your inner voice or out loud and I think is a healthy way to process those really significant, hard-hitting emotions. Bottling them up never seems to work!
I have to admit that in reading your last sentence, I expected to read some fond words and memories and smiled a big smile when I read that you “can still give them a piece of your mind.” That too is totally valid. Memories are both positive and negative, and both are valid memories, so our reactions in processing grief can be similarly two-fold as well. And that is also valid.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice
LikeLike
A great reminder for me to read The Fault in our stars!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed and watch the movie. But keep the tissues handy. It is so very sad.
LikeLiked by 1 person