Echoes of the Departed, Silence of the Living: A Reflection on Memory and Distance.......

 #553

Personal Update: 1) I've been diagnosed with Cervical Spondylosis and have been advised to take three weeks of rest. As a result, my blog posts might be a bit sporadic over the next few weeks. But yesterday, while staring at the ceiling in reflection, (20 Hrs of doing that!) the idea for this topic struck me, and I felt compelled to share. So, here we go.

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There’s a question that’s been tugging at my mind for some time now: why do we often think so much about those who are no longer with us—people who have left this world—yet barely spare a thought for those who are still alive but have distanced themselves from us? This thought has been lingering with me, especially in recent years, as I’ve lost close relatives, friends, and people I held dear. At the same time, a few friends and family members have drifted away for reasons that remain unclear, or maybe for reasons I don’t want to confront.

It strikes me as odd. The people who are no longer here occupy my mind frequently. Their memories play like a film reel—hilarious, poignant, often bittersweet. I smile at their antics, and sometimes I mourn all over again. But those who have distanced themselves? I don’t think of them for weeks or months, even though, once upon a time, they were just as dear to me as the ones who have passed. Why is that?

The Finality of Loss One reason, I believe, is the finality of death. When someone dies, there’s a closure—albeit a painful one—that occurs. You know you will never have another conversation with them, never share another meal, never laugh with them again. Because of this finality, our minds tend to preserve their memory with care, as if holding on to them is the only way we can still feel their presence. It's almost as though death amplifies the value of our shared experiences because they can no longer be repeated.

Take, for example, the global outpouring of grief when someone like Princess Diana passed away. People who had never met her felt an inexplicable sense of loss. The memory of her became something sacred. On the other hand, how many of us keep thinking about public figures or even relatives who are still alive but with whom we’ve lost touch? Somehow, the emotional distance seems harder to bridge.

The Emotional Cost of Estrangement On the other hand, people who are alive but have distanced themselves from us may be a different kind of loss—one that we haven't fully processed or, in some cases, may not want to. There’s often unresolved tension or unspoken resentment, and dealing with those emotions requires energy, sometimes more than we’re willing to invest. These relationships are in limbo—neither fully in our lives nor fully out. And perhaps, it's this ambiguity that makes it easier to set them aside in our thoughts. After all, we tend to avoid uncomfortable situations, even in our own minds.

In my own life, I’ve had family members and friends who I was once very close with, but who, over time, drifted away or betrayed me when least expected. Was it my fault? Theirs? Did circumstances conspire to pull us apart, or did we simply let go without realizing it? The questions are numerous, but the answers often feel elusive. It’s uncomfortable to admit that I’ve let relationships fade, and perhaps that discomfort is why they don’t cross my mind as often as those who are no longer here.

Cherished Memories, Forgotten Distances Memories of the deceased are uncomplicated by the burdens of current disagreements, misunderstandings, or failed expectations. This is likely another reason why we remember the dead more fondly. Our memories of them are frozen in time, untouched by the complications of everyday life. We’re able to remember the good times, the moments of connection, without the need to confront the messiness that living relationships can sometimes bring.

Consider the enduring legacy of people like Steve Jobs. Despite his controversial leadership style, the world largely remembers him for his innovation and vision, and not the conflicts he had with colleagues. It’s easy to forget the friction when the person is no longer around to create it. But those still living? It’s harder to remember only the good when the present is mired in distance or conflict.

The Possibility of Reconnection Perhaps the reason we don’t dwell as much on those who have distanced themselves is because, in the back of our minds, we believe there’s still a chance—however slim—for reconciliation. We tell ourselves that maybe one day the phone will ring, and it will be them, or we’ll bump into each other at a family event, and all will be forgiven. With the deceased, we know that’s not possible. With the living, there’s always the small hope that the distance can be bridged. But until then, we put it off, avoiding the emotional effort of addressing the gap.

So, What Is This? If I were to give this phenomenon a name, I might call it 'emotional compartmentalization.' We put our thoughts and memories into compartments, whether we realize it or not. Those who have passed get tucked away into a special place where their memory is cherished, polished, and revisited often. Those who have distanced themselves get placed into a more inaccessible drawer—one that we might be hesitant to open because of the emotions it will stir.

Perhaps this is human nature—a way of protecting ourselves from the complexity of unresolved emotions. We’re wired to cherish the past, and sometimes, those who are gone are easier to think about than those who are still here but from whom we’ve drifted away.

 I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this: as I grow older, I’m beginning to realize that both categories of people—the departed and the distanced—deserve attention. One group deserves to be remembered with love and gratitude, while the other deserves, at the very least, the possibility of reconnection.

After all, it’s easy to remember those who are gone because they cannot disappoint us any longer. The challenge lies in thinking about those who are still here but far away, because there’s always the chance we’ll have to confront a truth we’d rather avoid.

Final Thoughts: As I reflect on these thoughts from the comfort of rest, I’m reminded that our relationships—whether with those who have passed or those who have distanced themselves—are a mirror of the connections we’ve nurtured, cherished, or perhaps, taken for granted. Life’s unpredictable nature makes it clear that while we hold the memories of the departed close, we should also take steps, where possible, to reconcile with those still living. Maybe it’s time to open those drawers we’ve been avoiding—either to close them with peace or to offer a chance at reconnection. In the end, both are a part of life’s complex but beautiful journey.

Let me know your thoughts. Comments?
Karthik.

24.9.24. 930am.