Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Maya Kaganskaya

Today is the second anniversary of my mother's death. I don't believe in commemorative dates. Memory has no calendar; it comes and goes as it wills. Like writing, memory is free; like writing, it stays with us, sometimes receding into the background and sometimes coming back at unexpected moments as a flash of illumination or a stab of longing. My mother's writing is alive today, somewhere in the world. And so is my memory of her.    

1 comment:

hatool cat said...

every one of us who has been lucky enough to be your student will never forget.