This is not a report of things I've done. It's just a moments' worth of reflection and reactions.
A young woman in a wheelchair reminded me of my mother today. The wheelchair itself reminded me a little of my father.
A discussion with my coworker reminded me of my mother.
The fear in the eyes of my two little cats as they are left overnight to have some minor medical attention - this reminded me of my mother's scared face when we left her at Riverview.
Vague impressions: My Mum is soft hands and a whiff of makeup, Nivea Creme. My Dad is a straight back, strong hands and sad, intelligent eyes. It just came over me: I miss them.
Sometimes, as I move farther into the future, and painful events move farther into the past, I wonder if I purposely try to find ways to remind myself about them. Maybe, I fear that if I don't feel them again, somehow, I might lose them forever.
Photographs, writing, and bits of clothing or personal items: these things are tangible, solid things. Names are also well-entrenched.
However, feelings and mental images are the hardest to keep alive or fresh. They tend to fade away if you don't take them out and use them once in a while.
One day, I'll be gone too and so will all these memories, impressions, thoughts, and feelings of association. That's the way of life: blissful or agonizing, but still temporary.
Who are you, and why do you matter? Why be here? I will try to look upon those kinds of questions in a positive way, and answer them in a positive way, because that remains my choice.
August 16, 2004
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