13: The Memories That Leave Questions

This post marks the start of my second year of Ex Tenebris, I mention this because when I take the time to look back at my life, I see plenty of things that make me ask myself plenty of questions, and those questions are just 1/3 of why this blog exists.

The next third of this trifecta has to do with my unfiltered personality. There are all sorts of things that go into what makes someone who they are, and I think that I will always lean toword the idea that who we are today is a product of everything we have experienced.

Yes, that thought is a bit cliché, and the reason for this being such a well-used statement is that it is true. What we experience and just as importantly our memories of that experience no matter how perfect or imperfect they are provides us with a hand-drawn map of who we are.

The thing about memories is that they cannot help but change over time. This is due to the unavoidable choices and changes that a person goes through as they get older. Memories can stay firmly set preserving what the person has witnessed or they can fade leaving emotions and snapshots behind.

Some might call it a blessing to fully remember the past while others might call it a burden; all I know is that I have memories that undoubtedly contributed to who I am today. I have no problem saying that a lot of my earliest memories are just images of people attached to emotions. Other memories from my childhood have been supplemented by talking to those who were there when those memories were made, but the memories I am about to put into words has never been told to anyone who has added any details to what I remember, they have only told me of things that surrounded the memories that I am going to share.

The Memories of a Child

These memories of mine have to do with one of my uncles. The first few of them are those frozen moments in time that I talked about, they are associated with him happily handing me a drink or some food from my grandparents’ table as I pointed up at what my one-year-old self could not reach. Other images that come to mind are of him talking with my mom and dad, my other uncles and aunts, and of course my grandparents.

This photo montage of memories has always been and still is filled with feelings of happiness and the joy of simply being around the people that you love. Image after image, feeling after feeling is how I remembered all of my memories from when I was that age.

I think it was sometime after I turned two my first full-motion memory was made. I do not recall the details as to how I was strapped into my car seat and rode the four of five streets over from our house to my grandparents, but I do remember our car being parked in the neighbor’s driveway across the street from my grandparents.

I was still buckled in one of those car seats that used the old-style middle-seat buckles; the ones that just went over your lap and were adjustable by pulling on the strap. My mom and dad were nowhere to be seen, but I was not alone in the back seat of the car.

My sister and my cousin who were older than me by three and four years were on either side while in the front passenger seat was a girl who lived at the house whose driveway we were parked at; she held my younger cousin who was about one at the time on her lap.

I watched as the neighbor girl bounced my younger cousin up and down and I thought it looked like fun and wanted to do it too, but I was still stuck in my car seat. Well, after some time of watching everyone in the car being able to move around freely, I somehow convinced my sister to unbuckle me.

Now that I was finally free, my first thought was to go to the neighbor girl and see if she would bounce me up and down, but before I could move in that direction, I was distracted by my sister and cousin who had suddenly turned around and stood on the seat to look out of the back window. Not wanting to miss out on whatever they were looking at, I climbed on top of my car seat to see what they were looking at.

Now, I have talked about my visual impairment in earlier posts, it is a genetic disorder that causes a decline in how far I can see as well as how much I can see on each side, but all things considered, at the age of two, my eyesight was at the best it has ever been. So, when I say that I remember having a clear view from across the street to my grandparents’ house, I honestly mean it.

I saw the cars in the driveway and the walkway that led to the front door. At that time, I did not understand why there was a big white truck with red lines and flashing lights parked on the street, and I also had no idea why there were people in uniforms pushing a bed on wheels with a sheet on top of it out of the house. They slowly moved the bed to the back of the white truck, placed the bed into the back, and then shut the doors.

No one in the car with me said anything as this happened, but I remember thinking that there had to be a person asleep under the sheet that covered the bed on wheels, I also asked myself how could they be sleeping with the sheet covering their head? My memory of this event ends after that question, and after that, I had no more memories of my uncle.

To Conclude

It took me some time to understand that I had watched paramedics place my uncle into an ambulance, and it took even longer for me to truly understand that he was the one who shot himself in the head.

I do not think anyone in my family knows for certain why my uncle committed suicide, and I can only imagine the pain or situation he had to have been in that led him to believe that death was the only option.

Over forty years have passed since that day, and while I have never honestly viewed this memory as anything traumatic. I think that it was the moment that started me on the path to want to understand the things going on in the world around me.

While most people more than likely cannot or will not fathom the dark convoluted places a person finds themselves in when contemplating suicide, it should be evident that the choice to do so is not an instantaneous one. Often it is a series of things that build up to that fateful moment.

Next month, September 8th to the 14th is National Suicide Prevention Week. This is a time that surrounds World Suicide Prevention Day, but I think this is something that should not be allocated to only a day or a week, it is something that we should be mindful of as often as possible because every life is a light that deserver the opportunity to shine.

In darkness, a single flash of light can become a beacon of hope for those who are in need. Let the light that is life continue to shine. Suicide should never be considered to be a solution to any problem.

I mentioned the first two parts of why I write this blog because they are the reasons why I write the content I do. As for the final third, it has more to do with a potential outcome. I am not just going to say it because would not serve the story this blog tells, but if you want to know, it is hidden in everything I write. Until next time, I am Nolan Ex Tenebris.