As her memory leaves her, I open the journal titled ‘My Trip’ with their initials in gold, C & MM combined, like mine, their manuscript of travels beginning in 1969, pages of places traveled with people who have left us, of home addresses built by but no longer filled by them, stories of places and adventure they loved.
She gave it to me nonchalantly in an ordinary moment, as she kept it on the small table by her chair until the time she chose, after all this time, the passing of a travel time capsule, to me. It’s time to read it, but it feels anything but ordinary. Her travels her muse, her love. Where do all the memories go, I always wonder? If written, they time travel, the universe answers. So I read, and am called always, to write. Her trip now becomes mine. #OneBeautifulLife
No comments:
Post a Comment