Objects Have No History. Hearts Do.

September 20, 2010 by  
Filed under Blog

Angie Rubin

Last night I watched The Time Traveler’s Wife.  I knew it wasn’t a very good film but I’m always interested in anything “supernatural” so after dinner I popped the DVD in my player and watched the movie.  At the end, although I did not become emotionally invested in the story, I was left with a sense of loss and thoughts of time.

The sense of loss is easy to explain. Spoiler Alert:  If you have not seen the film and indent to, stop reading now.  The time traveler dies in his wife’s arms.  My husband died in mine.  It’s hard not to project.

My thoughts of time are a bit more complex.  I was watching the film in bed, as my late husband and I had always done.  When I turned the TV off I looked to his side of the bed and it was empty.  The thought of only two years ago the person I had most loved was lying in that spot, came to mind.   The room, the bed, and the TV were the same as it had been then; the difference was his absence. It is a peculiar feeling to be in the same setting but in a different circumstance. I was there and he wasn’t.

Life has continuity in our hearts and in the world but in very different ways.  In the world, objects, places continue to exist without memory of us.  On the other hand our hearts hold every smile, tear, and sensation we ever had.  My husband lives in my heart, soul and history but the bed, the TV and the room don’t remember him.

Anyone who has had to dispose of clothes and objects belonging to someone else has experienced the truth about the world.  Once the person who owned the objects is gone the meaning is gone with them until the objects become someone else’s.  In my house I have objects that have belonged to many people whose journeys I have no idea of.

It is hard not to get caught up in the acquisition of things but if there is something I have learned is that whatever I have acquired won’t remember me but the people I have met and loved will.

I am reminded to live in the present and to love with abandonment.

  • Winsor Pilates

Comments are closed.