A line cast, a hope followedWednesday, November 17, 2004
Archiving memory or Why I wrote it now:
Because there are people who are commenting who were there and understand the depth of the pain I experienced in that short relationship...
Because when I wrote this series I was not thinking about how it would be read by someone who lived it alongside me...
Because I would hate for you to worry now, visiting and seeing me purge this...
Because the time of grieving has long since passed.
I think there are things that we hang onto after the heavy lifting of the healing is done. It seems to me, that to let go of this last remaining piece, I needed to actively "put it somewhere" so I didn't have to carry it as a conscious or unconscious memory.
I think I carried it because I never wanted to be a fool again.
I think I carried all the specifics of it because since then I have found myself doubting if it was as rich, as vivid as it seemed at the time.
I think I carried it because something inside me wanted it to act as a measuring stick, as if it had some ongoing use.
I think I carried it because I was as afraid of losing it as I was of living with it.
I've always been facinated by people who choose to be cryogenically preserved when they die, as if someday science will help them outwit death. We watched the movie Tuck Everlasting this weekend. The father figure, Angus Tuck, is explaining the problems with having eternal life to his son's mortal girlfriend.
I think I'm just making sure nothing in that memory keeps me from living. Like a Jew returning a year later to place the gravestone, now it can rest in peace with a marker at it's spot.
Because there are people who are commenting who were there and understand the depth of the pain I experienced in that short relationship...
Because when I wrote this series I was not thinking about how it would be read by someone who lived it alongside me...
Because I would hate for you to worry now, visiting and seeing me purge this...
Because the time of grieving has long since passed.
I think there are things that we hang onto after the heavy lifting of the healing is done. It seems to me, that to let go of this last remaining piece, I needed to actively "put it somewhere" so I didn't have to carry it as a conscious or unconscious memory.
I think I carried it because I never wanted to be a fool again.
I think I carried all the specifics of it because since then I have found myself doubting if it was as rich, as vivid as it seemed at the time.
I think I carried it because something inside me wanted it to act as a measuring stick, as if it had some ongoing use.
I think I carried it because I was as afraid of losing it as I was of living with it.
I've always been facinated by people who choose to be cryogenically preserved when they die, as if someday science will help them outwit death. We watched the movie Tuck Everlasting this weekend. The father figure, Angus Tuck, is explaining the problems with having eternal life to his son's mortal girlfriend.
"If there's one thing I've learned about people, many will do anything, anything not to die. And they'll do anything to keep from living their life. What we Tucks have you can't call it living. We just... are. We're like rocks, stuck at the side of a stream. Don't be afraid of death, Winnie. Be afraid of the unlived life."
I think I'm just making sure nothing in that memory keeps me from living. Like a Jew returning a year later to place the gravestone, now it can rest in peace with a marker at it's spot.
