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Monday, January 14, 2019
You can relate, I'm sure. We have these lifetimes of wonderful in short bursts that are gone faster than the last firecracker. And we're left sitting in the wet grass, galoshes rubbing the hem of our party dress ragged, smoking a cigar, thinking, 'What the hell just happened? That was beautiful."
And maybe that's it.
Don't overthink it. Don't wish for more. Don't wish for 'different'.
You get what you get.
It was beautiful. And we all know what Robert Frost thinks about beauty. (If you really don't, and you never read The Outsiders, look up 'Nothing Gold Can Stay'. The part in the movie where Ralph Macchio recites this on his death bed ripped everyone apart in the eighties.)
But seriously, nothing gold can stay.
And when words like "loss" and "death" and "grief" manifest into that restrictive pain in your chest, or that catch in your breath, until you are eating them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, a finality is born. You see the world for what it is: a sham. Because you're taught that the world keeps going, no matter what. But it has an end. It has many.
So where does it start again?
We used to be so busy, making plans, making memories, making mistakes, making excuses. And then there's one. When did I become the keeper of the memories? Honestly, I'm not great -I'm not even sub-par- at remembering dates and places. I thought someone would be there to correct me, to remind me, to be like, "What the bloody hell are you good for?" But, as I skimmed through countless photos last night, it dawned on me that this was my job now. I am the keeper of the dates, the places, the moments.
I am the keeper of our memories.
I was never ready for this job. Who is? I'm not complaining, I'm dumbstruck. Someone snatched the cigar from my mouth and burned my soul with it.
And that pain can find you anywhere, twisting your heart again and again, until it twists something loose inside. Well, something loosened today. As I fluttered through town, copying photos and letters, capturing times, dates, and moments on sticky notes, speaking a million miles an hour like a caffeine addict, something came loose. Sitting in my car, placing these sacred time capsules into bubble envelopes in the hopes of bringing one smile or one clear breath to someone in pain, I realized that I can do this. I accept this job.
I am the keeper of our memories. I will remember dates and places and moments for us both. Sometimes I will get it wrong. Bear with me. I'm only one person.
Hugging my dear friend to my chest in bubble wrap form, I smiled.
A day will be, when a flower blooms, and it's not a Starburst wrapper.
A day will be, when I see the world for what it is: beautiful.
When that day arrives, my dress will be dry, the hem mended, and my galoshes ready by the door, waiting for those fireworks...and maybe some rain.
And that is where it starts again.
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
Monday, November 05, 2018
Tuesday, October 02, 2018
I downloaded a few free books this summer and 'E' by Kate Wrath was one of them. At first, I was captured by the ominous cover. And what does the title mean? What could 'E' possibly mean?
'I must find out!' I whispered into the darkness of two am.
And I am SOOOO happy that I did!
Wrath's character, Eden, really resonated with me. She wakes up with no memory of her life. All she knows is that life is hard. And not like Internet's down, Starbucks is out of Pumpkin Spice hard. There is a large portion of the book where everyone is literally starving, fighting to make ends meet for just one more day, not knowing if that day really exists.
Hard choices are made.
I grew to love Eden as I love my own characters, and that is saying something. She's tough, especially when all she wants to do is curl up into a little ball and give up. She gambles to make money, playing cards with the toughest crowds. And though she is not particularly cunning or spry, Eden proves that she will go the distance for the ones she loves.
The relationships formed between the main characters sets a tone for Eden's journey, and the war ahead. Because, while Eden never fully rediscovers her lost identity -but savors clues along the way- the bond she forms with her fellow 'Erased' is unforgettable. Together, they challenge the police sentinels that loom over their very existence, confront the reason for their dwindling food source, and battle those who want to take everything that they have and are.
But together can only last so long.
"We can't go on like this, scraping life from the ground with our broken fingernails. That leaves very little in the way of choices." -Eden