CURATED MEMORIES

CURATED MEMORIES

This is not a boast – I can assure you of that – 2025 has been year of funerals. I have attended enough (live and virtual) or been well acquainted with families of the deceased to notice a common thread. Family and friends curate memories of their loved ones. (curate as a verb means to carefully choose, organize and present content or items) Those sharing remarks carefully select and assemble memories that speak with specificity about the deceased and the impact on the speaker’s life or community. I hadn’t curated the memories but in the presentation of them, I noted with interest the effect that these memories had on the presenters and thus on the listening congregation. My reflections have already influenced my living forward.

I didn’t know the mother of my husband’s lifelong friend. I knew his friend. Out of respect for both and to be supportive, I attended the mother’s funeral. The deceased’s granddaughter and great grandson (daughter and grandson of our friend) spoke of her together. They had curated individual memories that painted a picture highlighting her love of dancing, of cooking special family treats and of the way she cared about the family, especially the two of them. Another lifelong friend in the family shared a collection of memories that moved the picture of the deceased outside of the home and illustrated her quiet strength as a community activist and church member. When the speakers finished their collection of curated memories, I concluded that I had missed a treat by not having had the pleasure of sitting in her kitchen.

In late August, I sat in a church at the funeral service of a beloved niece. A member of the congregation rose to her feet, moved to the microphone and asked with a quiet but firm voice to share a few words. Immediately, I was on high alert, she was not listed on the program. Opening a book, which I would later learn was a 2001 edition of “The Mercury Reader,” she read a profoundly moving and well written essay entitled, “Standing in Poverty,” penned by my niece. My niece had collected memories of her poverty, the emotions associated with them, the ultimate triumph and written them on paper. The speaker linked her personal encounters with my niece and the written words to create a picture that was unknown to most of us. My niece and I were born two years apart. We grew up seeing each other frequently. I left her service feeling that I missed a blessing by not knowing the creative side of her or knowing her level of resilience.

I want to live and create so many memories with friends and family that when (not if) they stand to say something about me in life or death, they find it difficult to choose what to share. Memories are made and can be curated by others when we are present one with the other regardless of the circumstances.

Philippians 4:8

PONDER THIS THOUGHT---"Our world can be compared to a mountain where everything we say whether kind or malicious echoes back to us.” Rumi