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.
2 comments:
every one of us who has been lucky enough to be your student will never forget.
Always a blow to lose your mother. For me, been 14 years, father 16, wife #1 16 yrs...
Gregory
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