Sky hi’s. 👋🏻
✈ When I was little, I was a daydreamer. I used to think contrails in the sky were God zipping by to say “hi”. A check in of sorts. A trip of love to make sure we were all okay. We could sure use that today.
✈ Being little brought a freedom of mind that I can only remember in a glimpse. Like seeing the slight outline of a figure walking through a deep dark fog. Now my mind seems so cluttered. A soupy mess of thoughts, and worries, and constrictions that only seem to grow with age. Clearing the fog is a much more trying task than in yesteryears. It used to be so easy.
✈ Sitting here at my dining room table, keyboard against fingertips, I close my eyes and I’m transported right back to that moment. The brain fog seems to lift easier now. Maybe my mind just needed a warm up, like an old hand-cranked jalopy (the thing about hand-cranks is that it takes a certain amount of physical effort to turn them; you need both strength and skill). To be honest, the last few months have nearly wiped that out of me, but I guess strength can be mustered and skill still remains. Peacefulness settles on me now.
✈ I could write a thousand books of poems that give homage to the beauty of a Saskatchewan childhood. There’s really nothing like a warm summer day on the prairies. To be carefree again like a 70’s-born girl in pig-tails, skipping her way to the corner-store with change in hand. There wasn’t much to think about other than what kind of candy you could get with a quarter or two. Would the day end in a neighborhood game of hide-and-seek or maybe kick-the-can before settling down to sleep with skin still warm from the sun?
“The past beats inside me like a second heart.”
― John Banville, The Sea
✈ Where were you born? How has it shaped who you are today? Are those memories engrained in your mind as years try to blot out the past? Is there one in particular that brings you peace in this crazy time? What do you see, smell, and and even taste as you go back in time? As you remember, be prepared for the difficulty, for the tears, for the joy, and for the longing, and that’s all right.
✈ I encourage you to write your memories down. Share them. Speak them out. Pass them down to your children, or relatives, or a friend. Write a poem, write a book, paint them out so others can enjoy them. Whatever you do, don’t let them die. If they touched your life and helped make you who you are, they may also touch another. The beauty of a moment can change the days of the future.
“Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”
― L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl