Fading Memories
As I do at the end of each year, I look back and count my blessings. For some reason this year, I also find myself drifting much further back, to a chapter written some thirty five years ago. I was living in another foreign land then, this time as a young army wife. Cyprus was my home for two years. It was where I welcomed my first Bubba into the world and where I learned that sunshine and blue skies made me smile. I explored this new home and way of life with vigour. I know there were happy memories there. I know there must have been. And I also know there were many that were not. Yet despite the unhappiness of past decisions and relationships, I would not go back and change a thing. If only I could remember those happier moments.
That chapter helped create the story of my life. A rich book of experiences that shaped me into the person I am today. Strongly bound and standing tall on the estante of life. And yet now, those memories have grown so faint, like text on a page left too long in the sun. No matter how hard I try, I can barely recall them.
Out of curiosity, I turned to the internet, falling down a rabbit hole until two in the morning, searching for footage from that era. Something familiar. Something I could grab hold of. Limassol. Episkopi. Akrotiri. Coral Bay. Lefkara. Places that should be engrained into my memory.
But despite hours of searching, I found nothing that stirred recognition. Just grainy, forgettable clips that left me unexpectedly sad. The transformation of those places is astounding. So modern. So vibrant. So utterly different from the places I once knew. Time changes places, but it also quietly changes our recollection of them.
Back in the late eighties and early nineties, capturing memories was very different. There were no smartphones. No social media uploads. Just VHS tapes and 35mm cameras. I suddenly remembered writing letters on airmail paper and making the occasional phone call home from a public telephone box.
Looking back now, I wish I had taken more photos. Written down more stories. Captured the ordinary details I assumed I would never forget.
So here is my advice as we step into another New Year. Take photos of the places you live. The people you love. The life you are building. One day, you may wish you had.
Because when memories fade, photos and stories keep the past alive. They become something tangible. Something you can hold. And something you can one day hand down to your children.
Life can change fast. And the most ordinary moments often become the most extraordinary, given time.
--- Jan 2025 ---
If any of this resonated with you, please leave a comment. Thank you in advance, Tracey x
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