Is it a memory?

What qualifies as a memory in your life? I have memories like flash pictures on a TV screen that come and go, The forest behind our house in Santa Cruz, sneaking into my brothers room, the first time I went fishing with my uncle, the day I spent with cousin tommy in carmel, the first time I made Nic laugh, and a billion more. The first time I met Uncle Mikee, The day Aunt Noel came to our house in Santa Cruz, playing pickle in the front yard of Auntie MiMi and Uncle Elmers the list goes on and on and just sitting here remembering makes me fully aware of the billions of gigabytes stored in my little computer brain of memories. Every person, every event like a mental rolodex stored and organized. Yesterday we laid to rest Uncle Dudie, Mattayou...Im not Maddatyou. He used to squeeze my cheek between the knuckles of his worn hands. As I got older he used to hug me for a long time between the years as to make up for all the ones he missed. As the casket was wheeled into the church, I watchd the faces of my cousins, that deep sense of loss written in on their hearts but magnified by the tears. My own heart began to sob, seeing loved ones in that state, and revisiting those times in my own life where the future was uncertain because a piece was missing and life would be forever changed. In the crowd of family I began to think about the memories and a flood of pictures flashed through my mind. I was usddenly wisked away to a simpler time and I began to rub the back of graysons hair as he leaned into to comfort himself against me. Without realizing it,I began to cry. I first cried because of the loss was witnessing but it soon became apparent that I was back at the funerals of Grammy and Grandma and Nana and Nanu and Grampy....wow, I have sat in this seat for a long time, staring out over a draped casket. I often have thought that you don't really ever recover from the death of a loved one. I don't seem to move on. I have never learned to deal with death rather I have learned to live life with the pain of loss. Which brings me back to the original question...What makes a memory? I remember things about my life and those that have left this world that are endearing to me. My Nanu always used to say "wait a while" when he thought I was getting ahead of myself. My nana used to love it whenI would sneak up behind her and kiss her. Grandma used to close her eyes and raise her hands and say praise you lord jesus at any time. I remember sitting by a radio listening to the Giants game with grampy. Grammy and I used to call eachother boy and girl. And Uncle Dudie used to say without fail everytime I saw him mattayou...im not maddatyou. As I get older I begin to recognize the attributes of those that passed away in myself. Almost like the seeds of their life where planted in me and i become a long term reflection of them. So in a way I am not just a memory storage bank, I am the living extension of them. Memories? we'll forget more than we remember...