All We Have Are Memories

The future is non-existent. At least for now.

The present is fleeting. See…it’s gone already.

The only thing we can count on, is the past. We may not be able to recount everything in exactly the correct detail, but really…it’s all we have.

The future will also include our demise as a species, as with all life forms, and eventually our planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe. Perhaps the cosmos as well.

Will that happen tomorrow? Next week? Next millennia? Time will tell. The bottom line is that our future is not guaranteed.

In 4th grade, we had one of our classmate’s father come in to do a presentation on drug abuse. Heavy topic for youngsters, I know…but I feel it had an impact. I’ve never even tried illegal drugs, and barely like to take prescription or over the counter medication. I’m sure some of that had to do with the anti-drug culture of the 90s, 2000s that I grew up in. Some of it had to do with family members’ addiction.

Back to the story.

Constable Malcolm was a police officer, I say ‘was’ because he has long since retired. I tell you his name to illustrate how young we were, because behind the scenes and almost accidentally out loud, we called him, Constipated Milkman.

Mr. Malcolm would go from class to class and talk about overdoses and death related to drug use. He would give examples of the type of scenes he would arrive on, in enough detail to get the point across. He was very blunt and talked to us as if we were adults. But the one thing I didn’t like, and I remember it vividly to this day, was the ultimatum he saddled us with. I know what he was going for and I know why he did it. But it was still, annoying.

Mr. Malcolm would answer any question. Anything we wanted to ask, in as much or as little detail as we wanted…except for “what if” questions. If we wanted to ask a “what if” question, we had to answer his “what if” question. And his “what if” questions was: “what if the sun blew up tomorrow?”

I understand what he was trying to do. He was trying to limit the hypothetical and ensure we stayed on track…but what a lame question. Even in my youth, I could see a bad question for what it was. He lost my focus for the duration of the Q&A because I was fretting over the silliness of his inquiry. The funny thing is that it backfired on him, big time.

I raised my hand.

“Yes, you there…in the track pants.” I didn’t have a very keen sense of fashion. “We’d all be dead,” I blurted out.

Silence.

“What!?!” Constipated Milkman looked…constipated. “If the sun blew up tomorrow, we’d all be dead. What if someone stole your gun, what would you do to defend yourself?” I answered his “what if” question, so I got one of my own.

Again silence.

The teacher piped up to scold me and tell me that I missed the point of Mr. Malcolm’s hypothetical proposition. That he actually meant to ask how we could prove to him that the sun wouldn’t blow up the next day.

I begged to differ.

“He didn’t word it properly then. He asked what if the sun blew up tomorrow. I answered that question.” I replied. As a mouthy kid. Then I continued: “Actually, we can’t prove that the sun won’t blow up, but the chances of it blowing up this early in its existence are very slim…so to answer that question, I will see you tomorrow Constable Malcolm. What if someone took your gun, how would you defend yourself?” I was a huge fan of Carl Sagan and learned so much from watching Cosmos.

Mr. Malcolm looked defeated and answered my question. I don’t even remember what his answer was, because I didn’t care. It was about holding his feet to the fire. In a way to say: “get some better material.” But in a kinder, more self-apparent way.

This started a chain reaction of “what if” questions by my classmates, that were inevitably cut short by the recess bell.

This minor victory was a huge accomplishment in my confidence journey. It allowed me the opportunity to challenge an authority figure, in a respectful manner. As respectful as a 4th grader could be.

It probably helped him too. He had to go back to the drawing board and not be so sloppy with language. Because of a 9 year old cosmology fan.

This situation is what came to mind when reading an article that focused on the future. The sun question being an actual inquiry into the future and the realization that memories, like this story, are all we have. The past events we experience, shape our present and future, as we learn and grow to be who and what we are.

I’ve lost a number of family members over the past year. I’m getting to an age when that becomes a normal part of life. I try to keep in mind that the memories I have of these people, are the only way I’ll ever get to see them again. As an atheist, I don’t have the luxury of believing in an afterlife. So, memories are the best I’ve got.

Tomorrow is not promised, and the present is no longer here. Ultimately, we are our past.