remembering | remembering
Nov.25.2011
My most treasured photographs are those of my father, even more cherished since his passing almost two years ago. My favourite was taken at the Calcutta zoo, when I was three years old. I have a grumpy expression on my face and my papa is trying to console or cajole me. The...
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Nov.16.2011
There was a bleeding that happened,when your hand slipped silently from mine.Narrow brooks lead to an ocean of sunshine –and I never quite got there.I’m always more in the spotted rim of your eye,keeping me from where I ever wanted to be.
In a past moment –
you had me.
The sewn lips and...
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Nov.15.2011
It’s that stretch of the year from his birthday up to the moment we lost him that our home warms and lights up like the morning sun.
A reminder of that very brief moment he touched our lives and left so suddenly. Same stretch year after year the sun shines with rays of golden umber.
The...
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Nov.09.2011
Do you ever catch yourself caught between breaths and waiting for something to happen? For winds to change in directions that fill empty rooms and blow breezes scented with new beginnings … I do. I sit with toes curled beneath soft blankets, feeding on the cold that is nipping at my nose....
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Sep.01.2011
I am desperately grasping onto the halo of a vacation that took us to two of Europe’s most iconic cities: Florence and Paris. After having blogged every day in the month of July, I took the month of August off from writing and spent time observing, experiencing, and reading. We traveled with...
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Jul.28.2011
My Mom took her last breath two years ago today, a shallow one that barely moved her chest, and then she was gone. But here in the glass-fronted cabinet in my living room, I keep small artifacts of her life to take out and hold when I'm thinking of her.
Today I chose the tin measuring...
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Jun.05.2011
My memory was fractured in early childhood.
I have always been able to recall with great clarity the house and neighborhood in which I grew up. We moved in when I was four and live there until the summer after I turned seventeen. To this day I can close my eyes and take a detailed tour through...
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May.27.2011
Joshua’s lips quivered just a bit. This was sadness that crept stealthily, crushing leaves underfoot but not before the trees had been laden with fruit. Joshua, born into a war, of an Italian Jewish father and a mother from an aristocratic family, had pride as well...
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Apr.21.2011
I want to remember that I was hungry so that I never forget to say thank you over a meal, an orange, a bag of popcorn, a sliced cucumber, just picked strawberries from the garden, a gift of Christmas cookies.
I want to remember that I was confused and lost and yet I found my way. I learned to ask...
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Mar.07.2011
Please, remember me at seventeen
golden hair touching shoulders,
and the fight burning bright
in the twilight with whipping
wind, encircling the soul
that was beaten and bruised.
Please, remember me thoughtfully
sitting on that jagged stone,
so alone with nothing but the midnight
trees hugging...
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