Memories Found

There's a parable in the gospel according to Luke about a woman who has lost a coin, and she lights a lamp and sweeps her house in an attempt to find it. She finds the coin and is so overjoyed that she invites her friends over to share the good news. Of course this parable has a deep spiritual meaning. Nevertheless, it still pops in to my mind whenever I am on the hunt for something I have lost, or when I unexpectedly find something that I feared lost forever.

With transpacific and transatlantic relocations, the sale of the family home, and the unfortunate theft of a computer (with no back-up of the photos that were on it), there were quite a lot of photos of my past that had gone missing. I only became aware of this loss about 4 1/2 years ago, when rooting around in boxes of stored things where my father lives. He had no idea of the photo albums I was referring to. I was sure they had been boxed up and left with him. The sudden awareness of the missing photo albums struck me with a deep sense of grief, far stronger than I would have anticipated. Far stronger than I would have even thought reasonable. I had moved several times. I had already had the experience of divesting myself of quite a few possessions with sentimental value. But in my mind I had held on to the notion that the collection of photo albums was there, just waiting for me. And when I settled in to the next phase of life I would be able to retrieve them, to look back at them and reminisce, and perhaps share those old memories with new friends.

The 'next phase of life' came after my wedding. When we traveled to visit the US a few months after getting married, I had put it in my mind that it was time to retrieve the albums (or at least some of them), to share memories of my past with my husband, who only knew me as a fully-formed adult living in Dublin. I was looking forward to this. But when I went looking for them, they were no where to be found. My father suggested all the likely locations. Boxes were opened and rifled through, and then double checked, just to be sure. There was a good bit of hunched over shuffling around the attic space. There were plenty of memories revived while sifting through other items in the boxes, but no photos.

I had to stop myself crying. I was absolutely devastated that they were lost. And at the same time my sensible inner voice was repeating, 'It's not that big a deal, they're just photos.'

In subsequent years, subsequent visits, I held out hope that they might be found. That there would be some box that had been hidden in the back of a closet and had somehow evaded our notice and that the photo albums would be there. But the clever box that was really good at hide-and-seek just stayed hidden.

You cannot imagine my absolute, unadulterated, over-the-moon, completely out of proportion excitement when, upon visiting the US in January of this year, I decided to ask, just one more time, if any of those photo albums had ever turned up. Which do you mean? Oh, there was this box of photos and things? These are yours aren't they?

There before me was a well-used cardboard box full of pure joy! It was not all the photos. There's a good few years still missing, but the ones that made this miraculous reappearance were some special ones. Photos from university and my first visit to China as a student. Photos of my mother's visit to me in Hawai`i. Photos of dear friends during special years at the East-West Center and travels through different countries in Asia related to my work. Photos of travels in Uighur areas in western China, special to me because of the heartbreaking situation of the Uighur people now.

I wouldn't have been any happier if my father had handed me a cardboard box full of gold ingots.

I was completely, unreasonably thrilled at this turn of events. Over the next few days of the visit I spent some time each day sorting through the treasure trove and subjecting my husband to all sorts of stories about the people and places captured in the photos. Half of the photos made the journey home with me and are now being reorganised and catalogued. The other half remained behind until there's more room in the luggage next time.

Thank you friends, family, and colleagues from years gone by! As I have enjoyed in recent weeks reliving memories through these happily rediscovered photos, you have been fondly remembered with thankfulness!