Seeing & Writing

The memories of the childhood, of the family, of parents, of the loved person turn to be very useful, especially for a person, who is in despair, who is on the verge of ruin. Because memories can make a miracle by urging a person on searching the way out of the difficult life situations.

Memories make people believe that the life is wonderful and it is worth living. And it’s truly said that “CAPTURING MEMORABLE MOMENTS IS ALSO OFTEN A MATTER NOT ONLY OF NATIONAL CONSCIOUSNESS BUT ALSO OF PERSONAL INEREST” (seeing and writing, 141).

And here I am…. Sitting in front of the fire-place, feeling the tender warmth of the fire…. It is raining outside, rain pattering does not allow me to have a nap. And I’m alone in this dull, gloomy depressing evening.

To distract my mind from my cares and to capture some memorable moments I take my old album and start looking through it. There are kept photos of all my life. Opening the album the first photo I see is a baby picture of me. I was two then and I was with my mother holding me and with my dad at a Chinese restaurant.

I feel the smile emerges on my face, my heart starts beating. How happy we are on the picture! How young and beautiful my parents are! We enjoy our staying together, we enjoy our life!

I feel warmth of my mother’s hands… I feel tenderness of her touches… I feel incredible intimacy with her. How I miss this all! I am carried away to my childhood, where I can hear my mother’s tender voice, her endearing words, I can see love and care in her eyes. But these are only my memories, only my dreams.

I start feeling loneliness and despair. I’m closing my eyes and trying to recollect my mother’s touch, embrace, kisses. At this moment I would give everything for only one minute of staying with my mother to take her in my arms, to kiss her, to say “I love you!”.

And then I feel overwhelming desire to write. I have never been so inspired since I started my career as a writer. Now I understand the following words: "I THINK THAT WRITING AND PHOTOGRAPGY GO TOGETHER. I DON'T MEAN THAT THEY ARE RELATED ARTS, BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT. BUT THE PERSON DOING IT, I THINK, LEARNS FROM BOTH THINGS ABOUT ACCURACY OF THE EYE, ABOUT OBSERVATION AND ABOUT SYMPATHY TOWARD WHAT IS IN FRONT OF YOU (INCLUDING MEMORIES). IT'S ABOUT TRYING TO SEE INTO THE ESSENCE OF REALITY. IT'S ABOUT HONESTY, OR TRUTH TELLING, AND A WAY TO FIND IT IN YOURSELF, HOW TO NEED IT AND LEARN FROM IT. "(seeing and writing, 141).

While stating my thoughts on paper, memories of my dad rush into my mind. I look at the picture. Yes, I have always remembered him such as he is pictured on the photo: smiling, happy, very handsome.

He is a wonderful person, he has been an example for me that I have been following all my life. On the picture he folds my mother in his arms, he loves and worships her. Looking at the picture I really admire their love to each other, I have always craved for having such sincere, reliable, trustful relationships with my dear person as my parents have.

My dad has always been a support for me and my mother, he always has been ready to give us any support, help us out, give us a piece of useful advice.

I wonder how I manage not to think about them for so long time. I close my eyes and try to imagine my dad: what is he doing now? Does he think about me? Strong desire to see him, to feel the strength of his handshake, the firmness of his voice and real love in his words arises in my heart.

And you know, the most terrible thing struck me is that I am not the only person who misses his parent, there are also a lot of people who have to live far from their parents. They miss them greatly and can not change anything in their lives.

It’s awful but it’s only my fault that I have not seen my parents for ages. You see it’s me who left them, who forgot them! When I was seventeen I decided that it was high time to become independent, to earn my living, and I left my parents without even saying them good-buy. And since that one question has been always haunting me: how I dare leave my parents, people who gave birth to me, who brought me up? How I could be so ungrateful?

And now I am sitting alone in my dull room, in front of the fire-place, without nobody to comfort and warm me with his love and care.

I keep on writing and writing…. Looking at the picture I have mixed feelings: delight and disappointment, joy and sadness, happiness and grief. These mixed feelings can be explained. On the one hand my happiness is stirred up because I arrive at the truth that I am not alone. This picture shows me that there are two people in this world who love me, care about me and are always waiting for me.

But on the other hand, my grief concerns the fact I have not kept in touch with my parents, I ignored them. And can you imagine? It is the first time for the last fifteen years when I open this album.

It was said: "WHETHER WE TAKE PHOTOGRAPGHS, CREATE SCRAPBOOKS, KEEPJOURNALS, DESCRIBE OUR EXPERIENCES IN LETTERS OR EMAILS TO FRIENDS, SHARE FAMILY STORIES DURING THE HOLIDAYS, OR SIMPLY REPLAY MEMORIES IN OUR MINDS, WE ARE FAMING OUR EXPERIENCES -- FOR OURSELVES AND OFTEN FOR OTHERS. AS THOSE MEMORABLE EVENTS DRIFT INTO THE PAST, WE OFTEN REVISE AND EMBELLISH OUR STORIES ABOUT THEM.. INDEED, WE CONTINUALLY RESHAPE THE NATURE AND TONE OF YOUR STORIES EACH TIME WE RECALL THEM." (SEEING AND WRITING, 223).

But I have had no memories for these fifteen years, you know I think I just avoided recollecting anything to make my life outwardly happy.

But I’m sure that even if I have any memories, they would be only for me, as I have no friends to describe them to.

Out of the blue I stop writing. Everything seems me to be like a real nightmare. Parents, my parents… I need to see, to see right now, immediately! Without realizing anything, perhaps being completely unaware of what happening around, I rush to the phone. But why? I want to call my parents! Yes, I want to call them! But I do not know their number! What shall I do? What can I do? It occurs to me that I can go to their place. I should order the ticket by phone… Yes, I’ll go to my parents! I grab the picture, the picture that has changed all my life, I rush out of the house, I drive to an airport at a very high speed. I drive to the meeting with my parents, to the meeting with my future!

Now I’m already sitting in the plane, looking at the picture and smiling through tears. I’ll see my parents! Thank you, thank you my dear picture! I’m happy now and I’m laughing like a child!

Memories! What a miracle they are! They are of a great importance. People should keep their own memories and save them as if they were a real treasure.

Person who forgets his family, his native home, can lose his soul. He can became alone in the world with nobody to comfort him.

Memories allow us to keep something beautiful in our hearts and souls, something warm, pleasant, exciting: memories of our family, of our children, of our parents, of our dears.

Memories can direct our lives. AS captured with memorable moments of success, good luck, rapture, joy, we will never loose our will, persistence and belief.

Some memorable moments are present in the life of everybody. Being a child or an elderly person, a man or a woman, a married person or a divorced one, a lucky man or a failure, it does not matter. Everyone has his own memories, that should be remembered all his life.

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