2011
We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past, like ancient stars that have burned out, are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about every day, too many new things we have to learn. New styles, new information, new technology, new terminology … But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Touchstones are those memories and recollections by which we judge every new experience in our lives. Each of us have memories that stand out and above other memories of certain days. There are certainly memories of from the Christmas holidays from my past that dwell in me in vivid detail, and color, much more so than some others. There are some that are now barely detectable, remaining only in tiny bits and pieces in black and white, all color drained from them.
Perhaps sometime today you will be able to take a moment to revisit those touchstones from Christmases past that remain with us like ancient artifacts just waiting to reveal their secrets and stories.
Though they are buried beneath the layers of the new, like archaeological treasures, they remain there for us always. And when we extract them from under the vast accumulations of new memories and information, they immediately shine for us, fresh and vibrant and filled with as much meaning for us as when we last inspected them.
Here’s hoping that you have a Christmas morning that might someday become a touchstone for you or someone you love in the future or that you unearth a long-hidden touchstone of your own to inspect and cherish anew.
Here’s a song, Remember (Christmas), from the late great Harry Nilsson that captures this perfectly.
Redtree Times 
You gave me a wonderful Christmas morning laugh. One of the most dramatic and, to be honest, traumatic events of my life took place on Christmas eve in the late 1970s. By the time a couple of decades had passed, all of the emotion had drained out of the memory, but I still thought of it every year in an almost cursory way.
When I read this post, curiosity set me thinking about Christmas touchstones in my own life. Santa Claus is one; he appeared every year at our house bearing gifts, until I finally went off to college. The last year he came, he brought Chanel No.5. I still have it, and every Christmas I allow myself one short spray.
But that traumatic event? I realized while pondering ‘touchstones’ that for two or three years now I’ve not thought about it at all. Apparently the half-life of memories is shorter than I realized, and good touchstones endure longer than unhappy ones.
Merry Christmas, again!
You made me think about my own traumatic touchstones, something not addressed in the post. It made me wonder if the half-life of those less happy touchstones is shorter than the more pleasant ones. Or is it that we just bury them a bit deeper so that we don’t stumble across them quite so often?