August 24, 2013 § 9 Comments
Everything in the moment called “now” is in flux. Coming or going. Becoming something new. Now is a kaleidoscope.
But then—the then of memory—is safely static. If memories change over time it is only to become more so–more happy or sad–as they develop the patina gained from frequent handling.
Bad things happened, sure, but, like old tax returns, I stash those memories in a bottom drawer. I choose the ones I put on the mantle.
My sister, in the “family medical history” part of a checkup, once told her doctor how healthy our family was.
Except for the heart problems, high blood pressure, diabetes.
And, well, the cancer.
We are a healthy family. We just prefer our list to the one the doctor wanted.
October 28, 2011 § 11 Comments
Early memory, at least for me, is an archipelago.
Small islands of perfect memory rise out of the watery depths of time and forgetfulness as clear as this photo shot with my first camera (a Baby Brownie).
What follows is my memory of the first piece of jewelry I ever owned. It begins with me squatting in our gravel driveway holding the pin in my hand. « Read the rest of this entry »