I do not know how long it has been since I had Kway Chap, but it has been long enough that I was unsure what flavours I would experience. I hoped it would be like coming home. As I began with a slurpy spoonful, I realised I remembered pieces and threads from the past while creating new memories of what might be. In many ways, the meal echoed my first experience eating the dish. I think I remembered the last time, but when I was done, I was not so sure.
It is natural to want to be remembered. Recent events remind me that I am here with a purpose. It feels as if I lose sight of this, there is an unspoken premise within me that I will join others in losing the fight for life. In celebrating the memories of others, I am taken back to an old observation. “Nobody remembers what happened yesterday. And the things that will happen tomorrow? Nobody’ll remember them either. Don’t count on being remembered.” (Ecclesiastes 1:11)
Life’s whispers offer me threads of light and hope in this reflection.
We carry their experience. It’s not the specifics of how I responded to a situation or even the words I used in a critical moment. As friends share their memories, they talk of emotions, feelings, and the sum of all experiences. In the best circumstances, s/he was left touched by my actions and words. They speak of my heart’s gift. It is not specific most of the time. I may struggle to share a story even as I remember their laughter, smile, and accepting embrace. What each has left with me is always personal.
Others are changed because of us. You and I, in our unique ways, impact others. Bluntly, they are different because of the relationship they have with us. As I think of influential people in my life, I struggle to remember the soul of their voice. I smile with the struggle, because I see their influences in habits and patterns in my life that reflect their guidance.
