Memories of Past Lives

Memories of Past Lives
Some psychics and religions believe that our souls never die, that when our earthly bodies give way, we are reborn and we come back into our new lives as another person. While at the time of this writing (and I have no plans for any changes at this time) I am very much alive, yet as I sit in my home and look around I see evidence of my past lives along with my partner’s past lives and then as we put it all together, I see my/our current life.
I am a memory keeper. Not just in my mind where memories can often get distorted over time, or erased out self preservation, or just because our memory bank can hold just so much information. So it is important for me to hold on to physical objects that were part of my past lives.
As I see it, my life is broken down into four main categories. There is my child hood, though not idyllic was filled with many warm memories, especially of my mother who succumbed to cancer when I was 23. Now that I am almost 49, my mother has been gone longer than she was with me and my cerebral memories of her fade with each passing year. There is my military life, brief as it was, but filled with such a cast of interesting characters and adventures, but those memories too fade with each passing year, and each “new life” I am given. Then there are the twenty years that I spent with Len, my partner who I stayed with for better for worse, for richer for poorer and sickness and in health. When Len died, part of me died also. With Len’s passing twenty years of memories were industrial cleansed by his family who could never deal with the fact that he was gay, and at Len’s funeral I was relegated to “Dear Friend” status. The memories and love I shared with Len will live on in my heart forever, but just like any other memories, my mental memory drive will be forced to erase emotional data to make room for new memories. Finally, there is my life with Mike, my partner/spouse and since our relationship is new, we are now making new memories for ourselves.
Like me, Mike has past lives also, there was his childhood in Roseto Pennsyvlvania, a small slate mining town in the foot hills of the Pocono Mountains, there were his years at Rider College in the late 60’s, his marriage to a woman, subsequent divorce, and then a 15 year relationship with another partner, other than myself.
When Mike and I first moved in together, he moved into “my” apartment. It was my first apartment that I got after Len died and there was nothing about that apartment that said that anyone that I lived there. After about five months of sharing a tiny one bedroom apartment with noisy neighbors, not to mention Mike’s daily commute of two hours each way to work, we decided to look for a bigger place together. We needed to get out of South Jersey for two reasons, one, it was just ridiculous for Mike to commute two hours each way to work, and two, south Jersey was filled with too many memories of Len and the longer I stayed in south Jersey, the longer I prolonged the already arduous process of grieving, so we picked a location that was halfway between Mike’s work and my work and this certified Bruce Springsteen loving Jersey Boy found himself in Lansdale Pennsylvana.
Mike and I now share a home that we built together, but we built with pieces from our past lives. Between my and Mike’s childhood memories, our subsequent college and armed forces days, our past relationships there are literally over a hundred years of memories in this apartment. Pictures of our parents and grand parents as children and as bride and grooms, pictures of our childhood, pictures of Mike’s kids, my pictures of Len.
When you look at our apartment, it looks like a warm inviting home, there is nothing (save for the tiny kitchen) that would make you feel like you are in an apartment. No, Mike and I are committed to make a home.
Sometimes I look around our home and something catches my eye, sometimes it is a piece of furniture, sometimes a gift that Mike got me for our first Christmas, sometimes a picture and I reminded of how many lives I have had. There is the vase the I bought Len during one our last vacations together, there is a gravy boat that belonged to my mother, there is a picture of my sister Ellenbeth when she was just 15. I look at Mike’s things also, the china that belonged to him and his wife, the china closet he bought with his last partner, pictures of his children when they were kids, long before I came into their lives and I am reminded of his past lives also.
So many people say that material possessions are not important, but they are. I am not talking about extravagant indulges like $500 shoes, or $2000 suits, or even fancy cars or fancy jewelry. My “wedding” band from Len cost $99, we bought on Jewelers Row in Phildadelphia, yet every time I look down at it, I am reminded of the love we shared. In October of this year Mike and I got married and I am wearing one more $99 wedding band, and it’s okay, I don’t need platinum to symbolize my love for a person, in this case titatanium steel is enough.
I guess what I am trying to say is you never know where your precious memories lie. Sometimes they are in a photo album, sometimes a record album and sometimes a simple Christmas tree ornament.
It’s Christmas, the time of giving, and if you are like me and so many other Americans you are on a tight budget. I’d love to be in the position to surprise Mike with a trip to Europe to ski, but that is not going to happen this year, instead I am having a family heirloom of his restored-his grand parents wedding. That is something that can and will stay in his family long after we are gone. I urge you all to give during this season to your loved ones, but forgo the fruitcake and the Ronco Ginzo knives, a simple framed picture of you and a loved one can be a treasured gift that will last a life time.
None of us know how many “lives” we have. I for one am counting on the everlasting afterlife promised in the new testament. I miss my mother, I miss my grand parents, I want to meet the maternal grand father who died before I was born. I miss Len and I miss a host of friends. All I know is that the life I have now I am going to enjoy. God bless you all and many you all have a Merry Christmas