I stepped off the train at Kalamazoo station on Saturday night, with the emotion of returning to an old home rather than simply visiting. It has been two years since I’ve been in this corner of the world. It is a surreal, at least for me, counting the days since I had left one day in February in 2011. Some of my greatest memories are here, and its good to make new ones.
I guess I consider myself alumni of sorts here at WMU, of a certain breed, with particular accomplishments. Six months of life here coming from Australia is unforgettable and coming back means I get to relive parts of it, remember good times and catch up. Stepping off the train I was bumping into people and let my plans flow. But it’s very easy for me to get into the “back in my day” or the “i remember when.”
The best memories are remembered
I came upon a certain kind of epiphany as I took a photo of campus as also began losing sensation in my fingers: The best memories are remembered not captured. But Chris, aren’t isn’t the function of memory to recall information? Well perhaps. I guess there’s only so much a camera/video can capture. In reality it’s very little – especially when we’ve become very disposable technophiles. You can only live to make memories, and relive them through remembering. Digital media is a prompt, a means.
I try to reiterate to myself (with varying levels of success), that moments are not made by Instagram, Four-square check-ins or Facebook posts. They’re made with friends, family and through experience had.
Kalamazoo, thank you – for the experience.