I have just woken up from a dream of grandmothers and aliens.
I'm being chased by dangerous aliens. What sort? No idea, I never see them. I go into a room which may -- potentially -- save me.
The room is my grandmother's bathroom.
This is a dream grandmother. A sweet, white-haired, happily smiling grandmother. I can't imagine such a delightful grandmother in my real family...
But in the dream, this is my grandmother's bathroom. Unused, untouched, since her death. Sparkling clean, of course. Various sweetly and gently scented soaps lined up, ready for use.
This bathroom is full of memories of my sweet, white-haired -- purely imaginary -- grandmother.
To escape the aliens, all I need to do is fill the bath, open some of the soaps, hop in the bath -- and I will be magically transported to a place of absolute safety. Transported down the plughole, apparently. But in and to absolute safety.
I can't do it.
I just cannot shatter the memories of my dear departed grandmother by using her bath. The bath that has not been used since she died. That is still sparkling clean, surrounded by softly scented soaps, waiting for my grandmother to have another bath.
This bathroom is a shrine. A place of clear, sweet, fixed memories. A place which has been left untouched -- for years -- as a memorial to a dear, sweet, white-haired old grandmother.
Aaahhh... memories :-)
I can't disturb those memories. It looks as though I'm about to be destroyed by aliens.
Get in the bath, Deb tells me.
You're right, Deb was not there a minute ago. Now she is there. This is a dream.
Get in the bath. Get amongst the memories. Enjoy them, appreciate them. You may change them, they will still be good memories. Or, at least, they will still be memories.
Okay, Deb does not say all of that. She may say nothing at all, certainly no more than a word or two. We've been married long enough, there is no need for words, I know what Deb is saying :-)
I can preserve the memories of my grandmother. (My purely imaginary dream grandmother. Now that I'm awake, I take her as a representative of any of the people in my memories.) I can preserve the memories untouched, unsullied, pleasant... unreal.
Or I can fill the bath. Jump in. Stir up the memories -- possibly change them. Stir up new memories. Run the risk of remembering dear, departed grandmother in a different way.
I may remember my grandmother as a real person. Not as a clean, subtly and sweetly scented white-haired and delightful little old lady. I may stir up memories of grandmother as a real person -- someone who actually *used* the bath!
But, Deb is telling me, these will still be good memories. They will be real memories of a real person. Not just sweet surface memories. Real memories, with some depth. And still... good memories.
I can maintain an untouched shrine of shallow but sweet memories. And, incidentally, run the risk of being destroyed by aliens. Or I can dive straight in... Stir up unexpected memories -- which will still be true memories, just not as sugar-coated. And, by now almost irrelevant, I will be safe from those destructive aliens.
So, a choice.
I wake up.
Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved
=======
"If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses." … no, not said by Henry Ford
====
No comments:
Post a Comment