Now it has been many years, over a decade since I've seen Dana. What I remember of her is a young girl with chubby cheeks and blonde hair. I would not recognize her in a crowd. From that time in my young life, I would recognize hardly anyone in a crowd.
Yesterday my mom called. She left a message on my voicemail and said, "I have some sad news, honey. Do you remember Bett, your aunt with the hair clip above her forehead that held her bangs back, remember her? Well, she had cancer. She passed away this morning."
I heard it in my mother's voice on the message, heard how she longed for those easy days and those family events. Heard how she resisted the change that time forces us to accept. Heard her longing, heard her hoping. In her voice I heard that she knew someday it would be grandma's turn, her turn, mine.
Memories may be rich but things do change a bit. The people look different, the food is prepared by different hands. But the spirit is the same. In those moments, hold the memory, the spirit, grasp it tightly.
Yesterday my mom called. She left a message on my voicemail and said, "I have some sad news, honey. Do you remember Bett, your aunt with the hair clip above her forehead that held her bangs back, remember her? Well, she had cancer. She passed away this morning."
I heard it in my mother's voice on the message, heard how she longed for those easy days and those family events. Heard how she resisted the change that time forces us to accept. Heard her longing, heard her hoping. In her voice I heard that she knew someday it would be grandma's turn, her turn, mine.
Memories may be rich but things do change a bit. The people look different, the food is prepared by different hands. But the spirit is the same. In those moments, hold the memory, the spirit, grasp it tightly.
Keep it alive with who you are.
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