Grieving is a process that involves and invokes memories. Thanks to the volubility of my deeply missed beloved, I have lots of memories, even from his childhood. Burt told me many stories. I learned of the running board on his grandfather’s truck; the grandfather with whom he planted cucumbers. I heard how he met hisContinue reading “The process”
Tag Archives: memories
Our haunts
During the early years of the journey, Burt had destinations. He used to love to sit outside the HHS lobby; he befriended one of the security guards, Mr. Phillips, and would converse himself whenever we went there. The route was across the 78th Street bridge over the Drive and down the East River Esplanade. IContinue reading “Our haunts”
His story
There’s a lot of serendipity afloat at this end of our journey. I get glints from the universe that all provide points of light from Burt’s life. Or maybe, my experiences spur my memories. Memories are giving me context to our history, mine and Burt’s. I knew his background, I think, because Burt was alwaysContinue reading “His story”
Connect the dots
Every conversation…. no, it’s not the conversation. It is I. I am the one who pulls memories out of every and all conversation. I connect to something I hear so I can probe my memories of Burt more deeply. I seek a deeper remembrance. He’s connected to everything I hear and everything I speak ofContinue reading “Connect the dots”
Out of the past
Memories are a way of reliving the past. Memories are also a way to bring good feelings back. I spend more time with that past now. In my present, I also spend time living a heavy sorrow. From time to time, events and occasions trigger both memory and sorrow. We did this thing, checking outContinue reading “Out of the past”
Once upon
It’s very exciting to hear that one of my favorites is taking on the role of Mama Rose. I could easily say one of our favorites. It’s a bit sad that we won’t be there to witness her interpretation. For the 2003 revival, Bernadette Peters made her entrance down the orchestra aisle, stopping by Burt’s seat.Continue reading “Once upon”
We traveled a little
Burt had many anxieties when we first met, had had them for years. He feared train tunnels and getting stuck in them. He always faced his phobias. He planned trips for us, often by train. In fact, trains became our favorite mode of transportation. Our trips were special. We went to Mystic and spent aContinue reading “We traveled a little”
Oranges
They brought us oranges today. The “they” are the lovely people who cater our Meals on Wheels. I love oranges, but they’re work to prepare. This evening, as I looked at the orange in anticipation of cutting and peeling, I remembered that my mother always prepared my oranges for me. Years ago, when I sharedContinue reading “Oranges”
Equivocal grief
I have been doing my shareOf grieving lately. I say shareAs if it were an apportionedAmount. A pinch of salt, dashOf cardamon. Measure yourGrief in a beaker, a basket, byThe pound or a bushel. I doNot even know what a bushelIs. There’s the song, “I love youA bushel and a peck,” it adds”A hug aroundContinue reading “Equivocal grief”
Old Haunts
Everything nearby can be a trigger for memories and the sadness they evoke. When I passed the cafe at Sotheby’s today, I was mildly cheered that it no longer occupied the top floor. Burt and I had eaten on the rooftop terrace for years. I miss being able to do that with him. Of course,Continue reading “Old Haunts”
this is our life 