Memories

Sing a Song

Singing Birds

My grandmother’s lullabies (is it still a lullaby if it’s morning, though?) to her flowers were more than just idle sounds. Rather, they were an expression of her caring. Remembering her singing made me think about how music in general, and singing specifically, is an essential part of caregiving for humans, as well as houseplants.

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Stormy Weather

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At six, eight, ten, thirteen, I was not afraid of storms, and even loved the electric crackle of lightning, and the distant (and not-so-distant) booming of thunder, which I imagined as a conversation among mythic figures, like the Greek gods and goddesses I read about in stories. As recently as 2019, I got excited when a storm bore my name, though of course I feel horrible about the damage caused by Hurricane Melissa, especially in the Carolinas.

It wasn’t until recently, as I was watching my mother react to a severe storm warning notification, that I recognized that my grandmother hadn’t been so much trying to keep my (non-existent) storm fears at bay as allaying her own.

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Learning to Let Go

It’s a dilemma we all have as the people we love age, move out of their homes and into ours (or care homes) and eventually die. On the one hand, those family treasures are imbued with a ton of meaning. On the other, they’re just things, and keeping a clock or a table or even my stepfather’s collection of science and match textbooks doesn’t make my memories any stronger, just as donating or selling these things won’t diminish them.  

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Laughter through Tears

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Humor has long been my personal “coping mechanism,” and I often tell people that sarcasm is my second language, but I come by this honestly. Everyone in my family, both blood and chosen, responds with witty comebacks or painful puns, or just bad jokes whenever things are getting tense. Even my husband knows that the best way to shake me out of a gloomy mood is to make me laugh, and I do the same for him.

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