“We never leave the past behind/We just accumulate.”
A moment of my life, as was, 27 years or so that ended suddenly 2-1/2 years ago today, or maybe yesterday by the time I get this posted. I still have our house, the home she made for us, and her poetry, and her car, which sometimes runs. And I’ve almost gotten to the point that I’m not completely sorry that she was the one of us who died first. I still have her poetry, and how life with her changed me. However we think of ourselves, how or what we are, as ego on a stick, body in space, mind as full or empty as we can make it, something else, it’s clear, to me anyway, that we gain much of our self-hood from the people we know, the ones we live with, love, and lose. The times of our lives. Immediacy fades, at some point what’s left outweighs the sadness, we become, if only a little bit, what we lost, move forward taking the lost one with us. Thank you, Sarai.