... how soon we forget
The moon was full and I woke up early, at either 10 minutes past 4:00 or twenty minutes past 2:00. It really didn't matter which. It was way too early to charge across the street, diagonally, to vote my heart out at the polls.
There was time for a second snooze, no matter what my cat said. So I snuggled down under the comfy comforter and my mind "jumped like a flea", as the zen teachers say.
You know how it is .. you hear the heater come on and all those other early morning sounds: an airplane, the fridge, the first commuter train to Haverhill. And then the "flea" jumps again and again in any old direction it chooses.
When my father died, it was said by a few that he had Irish Alzheimers: he "forgot everything but the grudges." What a funny thing to think of. The pangs of loss come back. And sometimes an insult or slight will stick and in the predawn hours there it is, still stinging and fresh twenty years later. The day I took the short cut home from school is so clear that I can almost feel the sun on my cheek after sixty years. Swimming in the deep, cold water; listening to adults laughing when I should have been asleep in l948. On and on.
The "flea" has a lot of energy and will go on this way. But then I remember it is voting day 2006 and I have important work to do. It is time for reality, time to remember important things because so soon we forget the things that really matter. Now.
December 1, 2006