Friday, September 9, 2011


People have different ways of remembering things. Important life moments, heart-breaking experiences, bright flashes of joy. We have rituals and rights of remembrance, and the hanging on and remembering begins to gain its own importance, separate and distinct from the memory itself.

I am one of those folks that drags memories along, collecting them as I go like a little boy putting rocks in his pockets  on a walk. Does all that gravel weigh me down, keep me from "living in the moment"? I don't know - I don't think so. You can have a big pack and still make the summit, and you might even enjoy the taste of sweat and pride more at the top because of it.

I heard this song on the radio Pandora today, and it made me think about someone I knew, and the rituals that will be held across america this weekend:


Anna said...

wow: the backup singers.

Doc said...

I love you and your sack of rocks.

matilda said...

@Anna - judge not lest ye be judged. I am sure I could dig up some fuschia/turquoise/hairspray/mullet combos from our old family photo albums.. ;-)

Anna said...

true... though I was only 6 years in the 80s unfortunately. love you guys.