Selective Memory

This is a photo I took of Victoria falls - see how I got lost in it?

In class today we discussed how we choose to remember the dead and how this is reflected in the monuments we build and the things we do to engage with the deceased. Sitting in class, listening to this, it struck me...I have selective memories of my grandmother. She passed away nearly 5 years ago, and while I remember her in the hospital and at her funeral, I chose to memorialize her differently for myself.

Between September 2008 and February 2009, I traveled in Africa. People always ask me why I chose to go there, rather than Europe, or India, or the more popular destinations for people my age. I'm always a bit stuck for an answer, but it's become more clear to me over the years - I went, in part, to follow my grandma. I went to Kenya and Tanzania when I was younger, and I absolutely fell in love with it. But I think the second time round, the choice to spend nearly 5 months there, was more than a simple revisit...Grandma loved Africa, and traveled there often. I have vivid memories of her telling me of her adventures on safari, of the people she met, and the sights she had seen, and I remember thinking "I want to go there, I want to be that". So after she passed away, I think the draw to go was stronger, in remembrance of her.

There is a particular moment I remember during my travels, where I felt her presence there with me, and I felt I was in the exact right place at that time. Sitting at the edge of Victoria falls, I had never felt closer to her. It was strange, because we were very close while she was alive. But sitting there quietly, it was like I had reconnected to something so dear to her, and I knew she would be proud of me. I knew she had been in that exact spot,  years earlier. I had seen the photos and heard the stories, and I was actually living it. She inspired me to go, and that trip has inspired so much of my life and goals. I think I have my grandma to thank for that.

This is getting very sappy, but in the space of a few minutes in class, all of this passed through my brain. The connection is there, I chose to remember my grandma as she was in her happiest days, living in the continent she loved so much. That is who she is to me, not a sick woman in a hospital bed. While I will remember her last few months like that, my connection will always be to her life.