When I first heard Ed Sheeran's song photograph, I liked it a lot more than I do now. I used to like pictures generally a lot more than I do now. Eight years ago when I started exploring Nevada, I took a boatload of amazing pictures, pictures that reminded me that I actually did those things because they were the only proof I had that I did anything interesting with my life. When I first started teaching, I used them in my first evening lab meeting as part of a break the ice thing to show what I do when I'm not doing science. However, in my hallway outside the bedroom, I once had a collage of eight pictures hung to chronicle my closest and best friends. All but one of those picture frames is now empty because those people all vanished from my life except for my hiking buddy, and it's a painful reminder of things I would rather forget.
We take pictures to remember things that bring us joy. In capturing those moments, we make memories last. You see, science suggests that your memory is not fixed. When you reminisce, it rebuilds neural networks to those things. This is why at each retelling the story may change. It's not a lie, it's just that each time you recall information your brain links neurons differently from the last, putting different information together. Over time, without a reason to reflect, your brain forgets things in order to free "RAM" for new information and endeavors. It's why things grow dim over time; your brain has more to do and fewer resources dedicated to the recall of things long passed. Without the pictures, I start to wonder if those things really happened or if they are just dreams or hallucinations. Without anyone around to corroborate, I might as well have made up the whole thing.
At the bottom of the hall closet, I keep a box of pictures of people who were once important to me. I know where it is if I one day want to look at it, and one day a few months back, I made the mistake of opening it and glancing at the contents. It was painful. It reminded me of things I had actually almost forgotten, things that are no longer true, people who were not true to the promises and representations made. It reminded me of things I never realized, disappointments I encountered, and people who once mattered. From 1997 to 2013, their faces gazed back up at me and reminded me of loss. They remind me of the past. They remind me of pain.
My hiking buddy doesn't keep or take many pictures. In fact, I think he only has four. He used to take them, but now he just asks me for pictures from our hiking trips and the like. I have more pictures of him in the six years we've been friends than his family has in his entire life. His four pictures are of us together at Sequoia in 2013, his ex wife, his daughters, and our friend who died in 2013. That's it. He told me that he does that on purpose to forget. Over time, it feels less painful because it feels less real. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe it happened differently than he recalls. He can't look back at pictures or letters or other remembrances and refresh his neural networks. He gets over it because he forgets about it.
Wouldn't that be nice? Unfortunately, even without them, I have eidetic memory meaning that even without the pictures, transcripts, letters, and memorabilia, I can remember. People keep marveling at my ability to recollect. Trouble is that I remember things that nobody else does because they no longer mean the things they told me. Trouble is that I remember everyone who leaves. Trouble is that I remember almost everything ever said to me even without the pictures because the pictures appear in my mind's eye. I know so much that is no longer true, and that's painful.
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. If the words associated with the pictures are no longer worth anything, then the pictures are pretty worthless. So what if we made memories for ourselves of our love and life and laughter? If they are people who no longer admit they ever knew us, like Peter did to Christ, what difference does it make to have those pictures or keep them?
When I visited my kid brother in June, I discovered that he and his wife take very few pictures, particularly of my neice. This is the same little girl to whom I was the baby whisperer years ago. I took pictures of her primarily for my parents. I took pictures primarily for my brother and his wife who will want to remember their little girl. I took the pictures because this little girl for some reason trusts me and loves me. I told my brother that she's obviously a bad judge of character and so he'll have to watch her as she gets older. I took the pictures because for once I thought I looked pretty dashing and handsome; maybe my niece enhances my looks. I took the pictures because the morning I left when she thought I had left without saying goodbye she went to her room and cried. I took the pictures because she gives me hope that women will miss me, love me, appreciate me, and want to be with me. I hope that she makes good choices and that we have a good relationship as she gets older. i want to be the kind of uncle to whom she can turn in troubled times because we built a relationship of trust when she was young. They say kids have a sense about good people. I hope that's true, because I'm tired of being lonely, and because I wish I could forget things I no longer have to see.
I got stood up to go on a date hiking today. I had the day off, so I went anyway. It was a gorgeous summer day on the mountain. It was also a wonderful thunderstorm. I sat alone in the mountains and thought about all the cool things I do that nobody knows. I thought about all the cool things I have seen that nobody else I know has. I thought about all the people with whom I shared intimate and wonderful things who no longer share anything with me. I don't look at the pictures. I don't have to.
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