I have a five-year journal, full of quick entries, and it’s starting to get full. It’s been helpful in keeping track of when things actually happened, not when I think they happened. And reflecting back can be good, too- even when that reminds you of death days and the deep sadness that followed.
If memory is the theme of February;
what is there to remember?
The mind-numbing, world shattering of loosing Kelly (how can it be two years this Friday?)
All the wisdom and love she brought to my world
that cake... damn that cake
all of the food, really
reconnecting over and over with the people who matter most
the amazed and excited looks when people were allowed to touch the cocoons (who else gets to touch art these days, besides the makers?)
that weekend before, learning so much from a generous teacher; exploring, pushing and absorbing
the night I met him, and then everyone else, each in turn
how my hands remembered how to knit, but not how to purl
the way that island felt like home
all of my homes, and people
how our hands-our bodies- hold on to memories and shape them into our stories.
to check in with our stories, to see if they still hold true, or is it time for a new chapter, a new book? is it time to evolve again?
all of this is memory. Remembering can be thick and grief-heavy, but it can also lead you out of the dark, back under starlit skies until the sun rises again.
And lest we take ourselves too seriously... did I remember to buy more oregano?