This past weekend was the serious start of packing up my house before the closing of the sale of it in three weeks. After my recent marriage, we are selling both houses to move into a house under construction that will be new to both families, a house built according to the choices made by me and my bride.

Today, however, I sorting through old clothes and old photos from the past two decades. The clothes were far easier to sort than the pictures.

What memories are discarded and what are kept?

Which are important enough to preserve images of, despite the non-relevance to the present day and relationships that have far superseded those of the past?

Photos of relatives who have died…

Photos of people who were once part of relationships that have died…

Photos freezing in images moments in time that may have seemed important once but since have become anathema…

Photos resurrecting curses of memory that were thought long buried, and images reviving pains that were only too recently felt of those dear who died too young.

Photos of my Dad, who should have lived beyond his all too short 62 years.

Memory, both blessing and curse, as are all gifts that elevate us beyond our animal nature which is all to frequently illustrated by the brutalities perpetrated by individuals and organizations, by persons and states, by every creation of humanity, showing the fundamental sins of man writ large.

Memory is a curse, but yet also a blessing, if we use it to expiate the sins that we write large.

We should not forget that it was once vowed, “Never forget!”

Never forget, regardless of the victim.

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