Reading Kinsella’s book has got me thinking.
Who is the keeper of my memories? Is there any one person who would know enough about my life to help me put it back together again?
I tend to be a reticent person, picking and choosing what and when to share, while at the same time being out-going. Some aspects of my life I haven’t shared with anyone, and some things I might yet share at the right time with the right persons under the right circumstances. I suppose that says that I don’t trust easily.
It used to be in pre-writing societies that the Keeper of Memories was a revered person, one who kept memories alive of the families and their history. It was important that it be remembered exactly and told in the same manner.
I’d have to get together with several of my friends and family in order to piece together the fabric of my life. And I suspect that some memories would clash with each other. Not all views of me would be the same.
It’s quite a heady subject. One that hopefully I’ll never have to test.
How about you?
Karin
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Books, Memory and forgetting
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