I haven’t been writing things down. There are so many things I want to write, so many thoughts I’m trying to catch in the kitchen while the pancakes brown, so many ideas that come while I’m working. They come and they leave, and I’m left standing in the kitchen as the skillet begins to smoke, wondering why my head feels emptied.
I know I won’t remember much about this busy, full season of mammograms and balance on mountain bikes. I’ll remember the parts I wrote down, and the rest will be gone with the skillet smoke.
I’m learning that this is OK, that it’s good. That we can’t capsule our seasons and lives into pill form for later digesting. Memories, like pills, can heal. But sometimes they hurt going down.
Mostly, I just miss writing.
—
Our 2020 Valentines day break in liner notes, then:
-Rolled pancakes with sugar and lemon juice
-Surprise mountain bike on a whim from Martin, white candles for Valentines Night
-Wiping crying eyes from a lump found
-Movie with Markus for his birthday and fresh-buttered popcorn
-A fun grocery run prior to Martin going on a back-country tour with friends, a last-minute tiramisu date from the upbeat physicist, a reminder that small acts of kindness bring big waves of happiness
-Good smelling soaps for showers upon his return
-Holding my hand in the waiting room
-Ibuprofen and ICE for a biopsy
-Forgetting to not worry, smiling when the news comes that the lump is benign and he loves me all the same
-Upon visiting Laurie’s house, the gift of a miniature Goodie-bar, the offering of the Love Olympics trophy in return, “for the winners, you know.”
-Honey-smoked turkey for lunch
-Twinkly sunsets hanging in the background
-Old churches with stained-window pieces
-A snowman made from a tiny hand and a loving Tata
-Fresh hash browns for breakfast, candied Tofifay for dessert
Wishing you and yours a happy love day this year, lumps, bumps and all.
