Well, my big sister, her husband, and most important of all, my little niece have gone home. They left.
This sounds silly but it feels like the
sunshine has gone away.
Anyways, I don’t have the heart to post up something new. Am I going to leave you with nothing, though? Nah, still a bit of torture…here’s a (not too old) piece of writing.
A Memory is Alive
A memory’s got a mind of its own. Kinda like a mother in law or one of those friends you have that always ‘pops in’, was ‘just in the neighborhood’ and ‘thought they’d just drop by without telling you’. Sometimes, you welcome the memory, the thought of a time when things were better, simpler, more true. You sit back and try to wipe your foggy lenses- try to remember those days, the blurred faces, the names of your past and who you once were.
I remember, growing up in the States, how my mom would replay over and over again the videos she had of her brothers and sisters’ weddings. I didn’t understand it then, but now I know. I know she was looking for a way to remember.
T o r e l i v e.
To be with them…despite the hundreds of miles apart, and the gigantic ocean that separated her from them.
Even now, to this day, I can sometimes catch her looking wistfully at the t.v. screen, at some stranger who coincidentally bears a great similarity to someone she knew…or bears no similarity at all, except in the eyes of a woman whose heart has been left abroad.
And sometimes, you don’t welcome the memory. It comes and BANG. Everything is wrong. Suddenly you remember what you would have been doing, who you would have been hanging out with…if things had stayed the same.
It’s funny how a certain smell, a color, a word can leave you with tears in your eyes…It’s funny how that’s all it takes for you to remember.
And then of course, there are those memories that you know are there, lurking just a thought away, just an inch away. They’re the memories you yearn to throw far far away…not just in another continent…A cruel word, an embarrassing situation, a time you messed up, a time when you did something terribly wrong.
It’s funny how a memory’s got a mind of its own. Kinda like a mother in law or one of those friends you have that always ‘pops in’, was ‘just in the neighborhood’ and ‘thought they’d just drop by without telling you’.
P.S. on a more positive notes, what's one of your favorite memories?