Sometimes my mind is a crowd of images – a jumbled blur of accumulated experiences and impressions.
Perhaps the earliest image I can still dimly make out in the soft haze is of snow and sunny blue November skies of anticipation – of a little sister arriving four days before I turned three. Smudges of a dog, my older brother, and my father hover against the snowy background. Maybe it wasn’t actually sunny the day she and my mother came home from the hospital, but my just-became-a-big-sister heart was. A happy memory.
There are many, many images that glow soft and warm in cozy, treasured places of my mind along with that toddler first memory, but for some reason this week has been one of invasion by the hard, jagged ones that poke unwanted into painful places. How to deal with those moments which I wish I could scrub clean, paint over, bleach away, whitewash… and yet fear forgetting because in forgetting something of me is lost?
Hold the images still. Look at them. Don’t skirt around the edges or avoid their harsh vividness. Let them be what they are.
Breathe peace. No need to fear them. I cannot change that they are a part of me, but I can control what they make of me.
Purposefully put them back. Tarrying in their heavy presence only adds burden to a day already full. Letting them go allows freedom to move through today’s collection.
Pick a treasured memory out of the crowd – they are never far from reach. Linger here. Give thanks. Receive grace… all is grace.
Charis D Crandall 