this blinking cursor. it is hypnotic. i stare at it but still words do not come. i have no idea when they will or which ones...
i was given a gift...yes one of words. as a teen i did not recognize it. my mother encouraged me...prodded me in fact to write a particular story about our family. i was in my junior year of high school. she took it and submitted it to a writing contest. the monies from this payed for my first year of college. it was not until i started grad school that i realize how powerful and wonderful an endowment i held. this weekend marks a year ago that i began to write here on myspace. so great was my need that i did so daily up until a few months ago.
it is through this platform that i have been privileged to read the words of so many other wonderful writers. sometimes i have been asked to read a piece or two. last night was a special request from a dear one. it occurred during a phone call. the request in fact was to allow the author herself to read it. she is 79 and she wrote it in 1943. no it was not dug out of some file drawer or pulled from some notebook. it came from the trunk stored in the dusty attic of a brilliant but dimming mind.
the author you see is suffering from Alzheimer’s. her memories hidden...tucked away somewhere deep inside. it seems that last night when her daughter asked her about this particular piece she picked up a tablet and penned a poem...each word exactly as she had written them over 6 decades before. simply AMAZING! she got on the phone and began to recite. i listened carefully to each beautiful word. they were spoken sweetly lovingly...written originally just after the death of her best friend.
i felt honored that the author herself shared them...privileged to hear so intimate and personal a story. i was aware that as quickly as they were spoken these words might evaporate. tucked away and hidden once again from her. i realized also that there was more of a gift here then just in the sharing. in that moment i was made aware of just how precious words really are. they are about pain and suffering and discovery and joy and love. they tell a story. a story of each one of us. the story of humanity. they are our legacy. a gift to one another.
i have missed the daily forays into my mind. i have missed the journey in them. mary’s words last night touched me on more then just one level. she reminded me how important a part of my life writing is. she reminded me of the gift i was given. she reminded me that i have my own legacy to share...
original post august 9 2009
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