“This won’t always be here,” the man, voice cracking, whispered to – presumably – his grandson.
I happened to be walking past. Already, thousands of people had gathered nearby to watch the annual Christmas Tree lighting.
The man stared into the distance. I imagined him envisioning his childhood: a throng of children – like his grandson – dashing and weaving and dodging about through the crowd, snow gently drifting through the air.
A memory. A memory of holiday lights belonging to a long forgotten era.
I should have stayed and listened longer. But the Christmas Tree lighting countdown would begin shortly, and I still had to work my way through the crowd (to actually light the tree!)…
Pushing through their bodies, I felt a sort of interconnectedness: not physically, but mentally. And then I saw the reason they were all here.
They weren’t here for holiday lights, the technology, or even the tree lighting. All the time and effort, from countless volunteers, served only one singular purpose.
The bond of a shared experience.
People were here to become closer to their friends, their family, their community. Not physically. But through the shared experience of a memory.
Thousands of people for the next day, the next month, and perhaps even – like the old man I had walked past – the next many years, would go on to reminisce, comment, and post to one another about their version of a shared memory.
Thousands of people interconnected over space and time…
That’s why they were here.
