Let me remember beyond forgetting –
let me remember –
let me remember always
for my spirit is often shrouded in the mists –
let me remember beyond forgetting
that my life is not a solitary thing –
it is a bit of the rushing tide
a leaf of the bending tree
a kernel of grain in the golden wheat fields
a whisper of wind
a reflection of sunlight
it is fleeting –
it is of the moment
it is timeless –
it is of eternity.
~Sing With the Wind by Winston O. Abbott
Let me remember…let me remember beyond forgetting…
…let me remember. The words above were borrowed from a little book published in 1968. It was given by my grandmother, Dorky in the summer of 1978. It is a beautiful keepsake that has been packed and unpacked and re-packed again and again over the years. I wonder why this book was chosen by my New England grandmother. Was it the simple drawing on the cover that looked like tall grass blowing? Did she thumb through it and land on a poem that spoke to her? Was it this one? I will never know, but this day I am grateful for these words and her finding them and sending them on.
Let me remember…that grief is a time that feels like it will go on forever. And maybe it will. Grief is a time that feels like it has to be suffered through. And maybe it just does. Grief is a time that is as close as my next breath and feels so damn restless inside me. And maybe that is its purpose. Always. Endured. Restless.
Let me remember....that this journey on to Bethlehem can grow tiring and monotonous. Left foot, right foot. “Are we there yet?” surely has been spoken at some point along the way. Maybe during the times that feel so monotonous, it is the best of times to listen to our souls. Maybe it is the time to listen deeply and perhaps differently to some of the echoes of all that we are grieving. Listening for not-that-long-ago memories of conversations, melodies, laughter, holding on and letting goes. Listening for the great and small treasures of what our grief is carrying. Maybe now is a good time to unroll one of our grief-bundles and see if there are some things that we no longer need to carry with us on this journey.
Let me remember...that in these December days it’s sometimes hard to navigate my way through the bright decorations, the familiar carols and the “ho, ho, ho’s.” My carols feel more comfortably sung in a minor key most days. So especially on these minor-key days, let me remember things that are greater than my grief. Let me remember...that there is a greater love that has been holding me from my first breath and will hold me until my last. Let me remember...that there is a love that is holding on to my whole story and is singing it to me in whatever key feels best. Let me remember...lest I forget.