To Live is to Remember
Since I was very young, I had heard the phrase, “to live is to remember.”
I didn’t understand it.
I suppose, at such a young age, it was almost impossible to grasp.
I was 14 when I discovered a music band, a group of young musicians.
They were more than just music; they became memories.
At that time, my mental health wasn’t the best. I felt bad about myself: unattractive, unsocial.
But their songs said exactly what anyone would want to hear.
They became my safe place; I put on my headphones, and it was just them, me, and that music that brightened my soul.
I watched their funny videos, I laughed, and that’s how I started creating good memories.
As a child, you don’t understand much about fame. You don’t realize that they can make others happy while not being happy themselves, as their lives stray from the ordinary.
Now, at 28, I understand.
Maybe I never met them in person, but they are part of me, of who I was and who I am now. There are no words enough to thank them.
A few days ago, a part of me left. Something that started 13 years ago came to an end.
It’s not easy to grieve someone you never met but who was part of you, and whose departure takes a part of your story with them.
It breaks my heart that someone just a little older than me is no longer here, that I can no longer admire and enjoy their art. But they live on in me and in millions of others.
That gives me some comfort.
He is in our childhood memories, in his music, in every tear shed, in every song sung, in each of us who found strength thanks to him.
“To live is to remember” – Now I understand it, now that you’re gone.
Thank you, LP, for everything. Your music and spirit live on within us, forever etched in our hearts.
