When we lose someone, we lose a world. Like pulled dandelions, what we shared no longer grows, and memories begin their inexorable progression toward erasure.
Loss is not a welcome thing, but the world relies on change to bring new worth. We are only brief figments here on earth.
I remember playing with the cigar box full of marbles as a child. They were of different sizes, colors, like jewels to me. I made them families, heroes, nobles, gave them ages, dispositions, names. One would sit in the hole on the clipboard’s clip and tell the others what to do. Each globe would, in the different voices I contrived and assigned, live life in child-time.
When my son was small, I got him Weebles with their cute rounded bodies and affable faces. It occurs to me today why I preferred Weebles to the other brand: the marbles influenced me.
What life deposits in our hands, heads, hearts, pockets, shoes, we may not recognize until some complexity pulls it into mind. The sea awash within a brain is a many furrowed swell; the trenches have their heads and tales to tell.
I am not fond of goodbyes. Usually, it is me who must go away, and life goes on ever else. Death, though, is another story. All that is left to hold are anecdotes, pictures, memories we wrote. The pain is like a hammer to the brain, the million shards left of the heart; together, these foist into life oceans of tears. Even as the years go by, there are days when all fails, but the sobs that will not stop.
I would go back to the marbles if I could, but they left my inventory’s grasp somewhere in the years. Like so much along the way, I only have recollections of what I believe was yesterday. Without artifacts, there are questions, questions arresting and bold.
Today is, we can
Maybe, make a memory
So the mind will forever
Keep it safely untarnished.
Reading books can be a treasure of inspiration.
As a prompt, take something you are reading, pick a phrase, let it marinate in your consciousness. Then write until your soul exhausts the subject, at least for a time.
I am thankful:
I am here; there were many near misses.
I still learn and am teachable.
Technology astounds, confounds, and fascinates me.
Color adds so much to our lives.
Electricity keeps the world going on.
If we all work together separately, we can bring the world into a state of art. Creativity is a portion of love.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan