The Last Rememberers
12 Apr 2018
Today I was looking through old emails to act on some, organize others, and delete to the trash folder.
I came across two emails that I had marked "ADDRESS LATER" and wow were they beautiful. One was a letter from one of my daughter's dear friends, saying how she'd lost a big part of herself when Kaylan died - and how she had decided to live in resilience as a result. The other was a message from my son, asking that I and my sisters write our histories - he wants to know a bit about his ancestors, so many of whom left decades too soon.
After reading these two messages, I realized that a big part of bereavement is the lack of people with whom to share our specific memories. In my life, there is nobody left who lived with my kids at birth because their dad died years ago. When our co-rememberers are gone there is nobody left to tell our stories.
That is exactly why we must tell our own stories. It need not be fancy. Photos of sticky notes are fine. Make a photo book with one sentence attached to each. Put memories in a blog for posterity. We always seem to think we have more time, but the proof of my life is that we don't.
If you want I'll mail you a pen.