Can't burn the memories

When I turned on the news the other day and one of the top stories was the fire at Notre Dame cathedral, it hit me harder than I think it would’ve in my younger years. As time has gone on, I’ve found myself gaining more and more appreciation for the old styles of architecture. The spires, gargoyles, turrets and castles popular all over Europe are my favorite, so seeing those same structures in flames was devastating.

But the cathedral means much more to me than just some fancy structure. Ten years ago last month I was fortunate enough to stand, newly married, in those ancient halls, view the Rose Windows, listen to the organ fill the halls and wonder if and where Victor Hugo’s hunchback might have resided.

Had we the time, I would’ve also tried to catch some of the church services, but alas, we had a schedule to keep and other sights to get to.

I won’t lie and say Paris is somewhere I’d like to move. The contempt the locals have for Americans was almost palpable — again, this was 10 years back — but I’ve always wanted to return for a day or two and tour that cathedral once more. Some day it will happen, I know, and I’m thankful that plans are already in place to rebuild. But the one thing the fire couldn’t take are the pictures, memories and emotions we brought home from our all too brief visit.

Something to keep in mind when a tragedy happens on any scale is our memories are always something that can’t be damaged or taken from us. It’s important to reflect on those experiences, write them down so we never forget the times we have on our journeys through life.