This summer I learned a lot about appreciating every moment as it comes and not taking anything for granted. Memories are some of the most valuable things a person possesses, the bright spots of times gone by being what anyone holds onto in moments of sadness and loneliness. I have certainly always been a nostalgically sentimental person and this summer I learned to treasure the long-term memories even more.
When you connect with someone on a deeper level, distance often doesn’t matter. At the risk of sounding over the top, I’ve come to terms with having my soul sister be miles away on a daily basis, a whole different continent and yet so near to my heart. As a hardcore fangirl, it’s often hard to find people in your everyday life who understand the emotional attachment to fictional relationships. I found mine way back in 2012; let’s call her Rachel as I often do.
Rachel and I fundamentally disagree on a lot of our favourite couples but through a lot of crazy things we went through together an unbreakable bond was formed. The only thing we’ve craved in the years since we’ve known each other has often been the ability to hug each other tightly and physically be as close to each other as our hearts are every day. When the sense of surrealism faded, we were inseparable through hours of binge-watching our favourite shows side by side and trading reactions in real-time how we normally have to over Skype. The experience did bring us closer and every photographic remnant of those days makes me want to pinch myself now.
The only thing that could top a visit from my best friend was overlap with a visit from Nana and Nani, which at 86 and 96 respectively is no small deal. I feel so blessed that my family got to meet my soul sister and she’s now even more connected to everyone I hold dear. With Nana and Nani here, every minute became about capturing nostalgia and taking trips down memory lane. I’m sure the birds and fish at Grün 80 were particularly thankful for the methods of remembrance we chose, feeding them all on a beautiful stroll through the park. Grün 80 somehow tied my entire summer of experiences together, because literally the day before Rachel arrived my colleagues from the centre in Binningen had a lovely day there, complete with barbequed meal and literally climbing into the stream to cool off on that hot June day.
Letting go of everyone after that amazing time together, a time of home videos watched and clothes bought and returned many times over, was hard. But perhaps even harder was what was still to come, the reason I sported a bandana in so many of the photographs. I always knew my birth was complicated, two months premature with hydrocephalus involved. But in a lifetime of dealing with cerebral palsy and the physio and constant tests that go with epilepsy for as long as I can remember, never have I felt so let down by my body.
This summer was really a dream experience; one glance at the framed autographs from two of my idols (courtesy of Rachel) is sometimes all it takes to feel at peace. They and many other marks of my fangirl status are only a part of my bedroom because of my bestie across the miles and that I can’t forget. But many times since June, the surgery to fix the elevated pressure in my brain (a re-operation after the first in 2015) has affected my short-term memory and rattled my certainty and confidence in completely different ways to some of the other bad times in my past.
Being able to say the pain of high school’s bullying and discrimination has dulled to the point of being as if it happened to someone else is a blessing. But not being able to retain even the events of a summer so dear to me has left me with helpless frustration and the uncertainty if it will ever improve. Maybe it’s just the brain’s way, and to remember every little detail of the summer is unrealistic no matter how amazing it felt to experience. Some days I’m still filled with awe at the memory of October 2015, when I visited the Warner Bros. Studio Tour in Watford and rode a broom like Harry Potter. But this time, the haze of memories I’m so desperate to hold on to is more surreal and it’s hard not to blame that feeling of disbelief on not being able to remember some of the details. The walls in my room tell an updated story of the fangirl life now and more than anything I wish I could remember the hours spent pasting together the posters with my best friend. Far away again now, I am thankful for how this summer brought us closer together despite any distance.
It’s strange what mundane things the brain retains when you stop and think about it actually; I remember spilling chocolate ice cream on my shirt when we visited the zoo. I remember Nani’s frustration that we were constantly calling her to watch more Brothers & Sisters instead of letting her read her book in peace. Fortunately I barely remember the pulsing head-aches that plagued me through most of July and August when all the fun was over. One shouldn’t complain too much because the memory can be trained and one day I’m sure this haze of uncertainty will fade, with me more organized in the aftermath if I’m lucky. Some of it may feel hazy but I can’t truly forget this summer, where my grandparents met my best friend and my trusty bandana happened to be an accessory the day I saw Celine Dion live for the first time (sets the bar for live concerts, seriously). As she says in one of my favorite songs “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now” and if not literally now, I have faith that all will come back in time. Because I firmly believe that memories of a summer this special are stored not by the brain but by the heart.
Have Courage And Be Kind 