A collection of memories

Life is really just a “collection of memories.”

That was the way one musician described the tragedy that befalls victims of Alzheimer ’s disease.

Fortunately, few in my bloodline have been imprisoned by the disease. But the description of life as merely a collection of the memories we possess has captivated me. The musician was making a point about the farewell tour of Glen Campbell, robbed of all of his wonderful memories by Alzheimer’s, reduced to not even remembering his own children’s names….

For me, being robbed of the precious memories of my life, seems to be the cruelest death imaginable.

I wouldn’t remember the love of my parents and grandparents. Wouldn’t remember my face in the sun as I pedaled my bike to the Bethalto swimming pool each summer. The rich memories of my childhood are always a way for me to escape when adult life becomes too tough to remain in the here and now.

I often escape in my mind to a gymnasium and the sound of bouncing basketballs. The smell of popcorn on a winter evening and the thrill of either watching or playing high school basketball. I re-live many football moments too. In my mind’s eye, I caught that pass that beat Roxana. I am faster in my memory than reality. I earned the nickname “Cold Gravy.” There is no running from that 40 years later.

I still feel the tear well up in my eye as I watched three sons be born. I still re-live their sports performances and smile. They will never know how proud they made me.

There’s the thrill of having my first newspaper story actually rolling off the press of the Bethalto American. The heady years of wandering aimlessly around the SIU campus. The day my family bought a radio station still makes me put my hand to my forehead. There was a thrill to everyone pulling together in a nearly impossible task of turning around a broken down AM day-timer with a lousy signal.

There was the disappointment in my parent’s divorce. There was the utter pain of my own failure in marriage.

But then….there’s the memory of finding love again.

The Stones were right…..You don’t always get what you want…..but if you try sometimes….you just might find….you get what you need.

For every valley, there has always seemed to be a mountain just around corner.

I remember the people who were so kind in my career….and the ones who made random acts of kindness into a difficult daily practice.

I have so many wonderful memories. So many painful and wonderful memories.

And I truly hope to make more…..

But people who are afflicted with Alzheimer’s lose everything.

Their reservoir of memories fade away…..

I can’t think of a sadder fate.