Preserving (my) memory of love

I initially thought to keep this private, but upon writing it I though it may benefit others who are processing their grief.

I keep repeating "I love you Darling" and occasionally speak to Anita as if she could hear me. At times I wonder what I'm doing with saying that. I mean obviously I'm recalling Anita and my fondness for her as well as repeating expressions of love that I felt when we were together. But what is that now? Is it an echo of past behaviour; a manifestation of refusal to accept loss; an attempt at consciously preserving an ember of love?

Despite my strength of feelings towards her, and my (beyond) willingness to keep our bond strong it is obvious that time and absence will mean that no new memories can be created and the accuracy and poignancy of old ones will blur and dull.

Just as the leaves of the rain forest trees fall onto the ground and obscure and become one with the soil without effort on my part these memories will do the same as time (like gravity) moves inexorably forward.

In my recollections over these last (almost) 4 years  I have indeed found exactly that. Photographs of course help to retain memories, but in some ways they eventually become the memories, and it is only in discussions with others that the memories are teased out again. In the end however strong my feelings are, I will be "let down" by the inaccuracy and failings of human biology and human memory.

But there is perhaps something else which is perhaps a habitual response, even maybe genetically encoded in humans to do. But to what end?

I'm of course not sure, but here in Australia we find a gemstone called Opal; its beauty and vivid colours are attractive and it is also a permanent record of what went before it. One of the theories of the creation of Opal is that microorganisms are essentially fossilised in the surrounding layers of clay (which over years of layers eventually became rock). Microscopic examination of opals reveals that there is an abundance of microorganisms embedded within the opals.

Perhaps this is what I'm doing; forming memories which are permanent beautiful reminders of what was beautiful to me. While eventually each memory will lose its form due to the pressures of new memories and activities, a core of beauty will remain encapsulated in the clay rock of my memory.

In a song by Queen, Freddie sings:

Who wants to live forever,
Who dares to love forever,
When love must die.

as I've written before, I wonder if what persists in the universe / multiverse is the repetition of thought, a strength of reinforced pattern. So maybe we die, but the expression of our love may just remain forever, long after I'm ceased to be.

Maybe one day (it is fanciful for a romantic like me to hope) that opal of memory will provide some beauty for others to see. If so then its a worthy thing to try to leave behind.