“In theory momentos serve to bring back the moment. In fact they serve only to make clear how inadequately I appreciated the moment when it was here.”

Joan Didion

I am a keeper of things: boxes, bowls, stones, shells, and fabric. I take pictures of what I want to remember, too. I write about what strikes me with awe and wonder, knowing what I write never measures up to what I felt in the moment. I stand in the middle of a struggle between momentos and attention, between presence and remembrance, between celebration and grief. There is sadness in the space between. Some philosophers believe that we can be both in moments and of moments. That is an existential understanding that wraps its arms around the sadness I know and feel. It is comforting to know there is something bigger than now. It is comforting to know we can move between present and past and future. Being both in and of experience accounts for the complexity of fear and hope, beginnings and endings, falling apart and coming together. Perhaps momentos are a bridge between in and of? They are our story clearly manifest. They are an invitation to appreciate the past, live in the present, and look toward the future.