{"id":27,"date":"2016-04-08T23:06:33","date_gmt":"2016-04-08T23:06:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/talesfromthelake.wordpress.com\/?p=27"},"modified":"2025-04-21T13:40:36","modified_gmt":"2025-04-21T13:40:36","slug":"remembering","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/04\/08\/remembering\/","title":{"rendered":"Remembering"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"35\" data-permalink=\"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/04\/08\/remembering\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?fit=1024%2C768\" data-orig-size=\"1024,768\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;4&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;Canon PowerShot Pro1&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;1236518805&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;50.8125&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0.001&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"Abstract in snow at kent falls\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?fit=474%2C356\" class=\" wp-image-35 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=239%2C179\" alt=\"Abstract in snow at kent falls\" width=\"239\" height=\"179\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?w=1024 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=300%2C225 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=768%2C576 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?resize=400%2C300 400w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/abstract-in-snow-at-kent-falls.jpg?w=948 948w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 239px) 100vw, 239px\" \/><\/p>\n<p>\u201cAillen, how can any of your individuality re-incarnate? Your body structures and sustains memories, emotions and perceptions. When it dies, all is lost.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Because I know Aillen so well, I sense his smiling beyond the speaker-phone, \u201cEthan, you know about quantum mechanics and quantum computers. Well, microtubules in your brain which have a known biological function, are also ideally suited to be carriers of quantum information.\u201d<!--more--><\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo on.\u201d My sciency brain is being seduced.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis information includes consciousness-related states or memories received from the fabric of space-time.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou mean like a radio receiving signals already in space?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEthan! You\u2019ve got it! When these tubules are destroyed with the body, the quantum information is distributed back to that fabric. Another body can then receive it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCan multiple people have the same soul like multiple radios playing the same song?\u201d I say to myself \u201ccheckmate\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, the radio is really a cell phone, each with its own DNA giving it a unique sensitivity.\u201d He pauses. \u201cEthan, as a scientist, you\u2019ve always been asking me about past lives. How about you <em>experience<\/em> it for a change? Let\u2019s see what your quantum memory reveals.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Aillen says his memory spans over two thousand years. Once, in the mirror, he saw himself with long red-hair holding a shield of two lions. Richard the Lionheart was a gallant and splendid soldier who fought to capture the Holy Land. He is now embodied as Aillen the physicist fighting to capture lost memories.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m open to it\u201d. I assert.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSo now Ethan, are you sitting comfortably in a quiet room?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, I am Aill.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cClose your eyes, and let my voice guide your awareness. OK?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOK\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I easily follow each of Aillen\u2019s instructions. My awareness progresses from my toes, slowly onto my ankles, and moves up my torso stopping at each feature until I reach the top of my head. Then, as guided, I am looking down on myself from three feet above my head. \u00a0Moving further up, I see my roof twenty feet below me; then my neighborhood\u2019s entire valley with its green tree tops and sparkling waters. Not stopping there, I move further away, I see all of New England, our continent, the planet, our solar system, even the entire galaxy. I then see the darkness swallow the galaxy whole as its crown star is the last consumed. I pause, alone, and then progressively return to my room\u2019s ceiling and hover over my body. I notice that my hair color is no longer chestnut but blonde; my limbs seem larger and longer.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSit in this quietness and allow early memories to return.\u201d Aillen softly says.<\/p>\n<p>At first, I conjure my early experience of being in the crib, tossing and turning, sometimes chewing on the loose stiff plastic covering the wooden bars. I hear Mom downstairs laughing. As that fades, another image appears.\u00a0 I\u2019m standing and wearing soft, light tan leather that\u2019s wrapped around my feet and extending to my knees. I\u2019m deep in the woods, next to a log cabin. My awareness floats to its cramped interior, where I see a large blackened hearth. I feel the soft and warm presence of a woman who is not there.<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly my shoulders feel heavy and then a female voice whispers.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy did you abandon me back in Jake\u2019s Hollow?\u201d Silence. \u201cI bore you no child, but still, I loved you dearly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019m startled out of that scene and back to my room. I must return and reply to that voice. \u201cJake\u2019s Hollow\u201d, \u201cJake\u2019s Hollow\u201d It feels vaguely familiar but I don\u2019t know where it is or if it ever existed.<\/p>\n<p>Again, I conjure another early memory, sitting still in my playpen where my foot is caught between its wooden floor slats. No one is around. My mind becomes silent for a moment, and then I think my lawn mower needs tuning. Yeesh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAillen, my thoughts are now staying in this universe.\u201d I describe my journey, I tell him that I have always felt at home in the woods but I didn\u2019t mention the voice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEach of these experiences is a piece in a jigsaw puzzle.\u201d Aillen calmly explains. \u201cIn the beginning, you only have a few unrelated pieces. As you continue, more will appear and meaning will coalesce.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I delight in his analogy. Later, I realize that a puzzle has finite pieces but my thoughts are infinite. Aillen encourages me to regularly perform this meditation on my own and we say goodbye. I stand and yawn loudly.<\/p>\n<p>I hear my wife, Gina, downstairs. \u201cEthan, sounds like you\u2019re ready for lunch. Come on down.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Gina disdains my otherworldly interests so I avoid eye contact while describing the log cabin but I never mention the voice and Jake\u2019s Hollow.<\/p>\n<p>Gina interrupts, \u201cOur appointment with Dr. Hanover is tomorrow morning. I think we\u2019re getting close, maybe we\u2019ll see something in the ultrasound. I wish they\u2019d retrieve my eggs without putting me to sleep. I\u2019ve heard of people not surviving.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I look at her nodding as if I\u2019m absorbing her words, but I\u2019m still distracted by that voice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEthan, you seem distant. Are you sure you want children?\u201d Gina says in a hesitant voice, her eyes pleading.<\/p>\n<p>I shake my head to return to her presence, sit next to her and put my arm around her. \u201cIt\u2019s what I\u2019ve always wanted, Honey. I know you\u2019re sacrificing, and I\u2019ll always be with you as we go through this experience together.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>During the next morning\u2019s visit, Dr. Hanover injects Gina so that her eggs become ready for retrieval in a day or so. This is the furthest we\u2019ve gone in the process after trying all these years. For the first time, I\u2019m imagining holding a baby completely dependent on me.<\/p>\n<p>That thought changes me for the next day and a half: \u00a0I often feel I\u2019m in a fog. I lose track of what I am saying in mid-sentence and forget why I entered a room. Gina, on the other hand, maintains her usual busyness of cooking and watching the birds. Almost everything she does has no friction. Each of <em>my<\/em> deliberations is burdened with fear and disturbing thoughts.<\/p>\n<p>We arrive early for the egg retrieval and Gina disappears for preparation. Soon her gurney with a drip bag is wheeled into the inner hallway where I am sitting. She is staring at the ceiling expressionless until she sees me. The dull gaze in her eyes instantly transforms into onyxes, shining two beacons into mine. I touch my nose to hers as Gina\u2019s lips press into mine. Shortly she will lose consciousness and I promise, until she returns, I will remember everything about our lives together. The nurse pulls her bed away from me. The double doors down the hall swallow her whole as the crown of her head is the last consumed.<\/p>\n<p>I do not read a magazine. I do not finger my phone. My breath counts the minutes until Gina returns.<\/p>\n<p>After an hour, the doctor asks me to join him in Gina\u2019s room where she lays regaining awareness. He said that the harvest went well and will let us know in two or three days what to expect. Eventually, Gina stands up and I hug her tightly and blurt, \u201cI love you.\u201d Would I say the same to a life preserver that came to me just as I was sinking?<\/p>\n<p>Three days later, the doctor\u2019s ID appears on the ringing phone. My excitement is throttled with dread. I don\u2019t move. Gina speaks only a few words before she slowly puts the phone down. Her eye reveals a tear and heavy darkness envelopes us. My limbs are filling with ants and my skin is shriveling from a fire, I jump up, lunge for the outside when suddenly I am halted by two words screaming inside my skull, \u201cJake\u2019s Hollow\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>By Jeff Ginsburg<\/p>\n<p>March 21, 2016<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u201cAillen, how can any of your individuality re-incarnate? Your body structures and sustains memories, emotions and perceptions. When it dies, all is lost.\u201d Because I know Aillen so well, I sense his smiling beyond the speaker-phone, \u201cEthan, you know about quantum mechanics and quantum computers. Well, microtubules in your brain which have a known biological &hellip; <a href=\"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/04\/08\/remembering\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Remembering<\/span> <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[5,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-27","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-featured-posting","category-flash-fiction"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7zCq3-r","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":467,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/08\/04\/not-what-it-seems\/","url_meta":{"origin":27,"position":0},"title":"Not What It Seems","author":"Jeff Ginsburg","date":"August 4, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cEthan, it\u2019s Delilah.\u201d \u201cHi Delilah. I\u2019m almost there.\u00a0 Are you?\u201d I ask as I walk briskly through the cold winter night. \u201cI\u2019m gonna be late. \u00a0Don\u2019t worry my friend Rachel will be there.\u201d \u201cI thought it would be an evening of just you and me.\u201d I reply. \u201cHa ha.\u201d\u00a0 She\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Fiction&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Fiction","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/fiction\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"googSquareC","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/googSquareC-300x284.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1102,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2019\/06\/23\/the-caregiver\/","url_meta":{"origin":27,"position":1},"title":"The Caregiver","author":"Jeff Ginsburg","date":"June 23, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cI\u2019m done resting Ethan, how \u2018bout you?\u201d I whisper. 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Two years ago while learning this technique, we met and three months later\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Fiction&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Fiction","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/fiction\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/Jeff-Caregiver.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/Jeff-Caregiver.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/Jeff-Caregiver.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/Jeff-Caregiver.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/Jeff-Caregiver.jpg?resize=1050%2C600 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/06\/Jeff-Caregiver.jpg?resize=1400%2C800 4x"},"classes":[]},{"id":626,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/09\/18\/my-old-house\/","url_meta":{"origin":27,"position":2},"title":"My Old House","author":"Joe Lobel","date":"September 18, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u00a0 This old, weather beaten brick house beckons us. I slide my fingers along the crumbly mortar joints, Watching as it\u2019s flakes fall like pixie dust, to the ground. The faded, red fa\u00e7ade, having faced decades of Harsh winters and simmering summers, Slowly reveals the soul of a humble home,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Poetry&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"android09182016-041","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/09\/android09182016-041-1024x736.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":84,"url":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/04\/10\/necessary-things-and-other-ramblings\/","url_meta":{"origin":27,"position":3},"title":"Necessary Things and Other Ramblings","author":"L Dewender","date":"April 10, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Driving home after dark, chapped- lipped and thirsty. 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