Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
-Shakespeare, from Sonnet XIX
Continuing with last week’s theme of remembering, these final words from Shakespeare’s nineteenth sonnet evoke a sense of the eternal nature of memory. Memories are not relegated to dusty attics, or shoved back into the recesses of our mind; rather, as Shakespeare says, they “ever live young”.
And why not wax poetic from time to time? Why not remember moments that are frozen in time—the birth of a child, a wedding, a meeting with a significant person, a fabulous adventure…?
We may plead with old Time to let these moments linger, but they do not. They pass away. The moments in time pass away, but they live eternally inside of us. And by recalling them, we rekindle the fire they first lit—in some sense reminding us, as Anne Lamott says, I’m all the ages I’ve ever been.