I didn't understand loss until I saw my mother lose her mother. I haven't been able to shake off the fear of loss since. I keep worrying about the day that I'll be in my mother's place- it's a rational fear felt in irrational measure. My poor memory forces me to treat every moment spent with my mother as A Moment to Treasure- something to fully record and store in my mind's vault for the day when only memories will exist for me. When my mother and I lay sprawled on lazy afternoons, each on our own phones, I feel panicked at the thought that we're just wasting time. I get mad at her for wanting to listen to another YouTube cover of her latest favourite jam instead of just "being present".
Ofcourse I'm the one that's not present.
My response to Daniel's work exploring memories, loss and hope is a reminder to resist this fear. The peak that Daniel develops in his work is one that I keep missing; because I'm so worried about missing it that I never notice when it's already right there. The most important thing for me to remember, perhaps, is that when the day comes for me to access these memories I keep forcing, maybe what'll be important isn't the crystal clear images I'm trying to collect. Maybe I'll be able to get by with just hazy memories of all of my mother's favourite songs.