Yesterday I dropped into the grocery store to buy some raspberries and saw a little old lady, whose middle aged daughter was helping her shop. As the lady walked by, she looked up at me. She said, “you’re pretty,” and kept walking. I was so surprised that I could barely say “thank you.” As I stood in line, grinning from ear to ear, the daughter smiled back at me. Thanks little old lady; you made my day.
People are obsessed with documentation. But why? At a party, people must take pictures to put on Facebook, and to save on their computers. Coffee with an old friend, or a spontaneous picnic… “click!” You must prove that you existed, you had friends, you were young, and you were loved. You can show your children and grandchildren that you didn’t ride a Mesozoic monster to school every day.
What it comes down to is this, people are forgetful. As the past blurs, people fear that life’s purpose will blur also. What was it worth if you can’t remember it, because there aren’t any pictures? A week, a month, a year of your life, which was so meaningful at the time, is blank. Milestones of people’s youth become insignificant—are they therefore insignificant? Well, honestly, yes. Our purpose in life is not meant to be self-contained. It shouldn’t be tied to ourselves, our friends, vacations, etc. It ought to be greater than that. Otherwise, we won’t simply document good memories, but we will attempt to find purpose in pictures.
A drawing for Miss Romero, from Miss McMillen.