What is Remembered Lives

There is something exquisitely beautiful about the way my heart shatters with regret – so many things in life that I didn’t do – or love – or appreciate while I had the chance. I dreamed about my mom last night. We were in the only house I remember growing up in, other than my grandparents. She was going through her things, giving me instructions on how to handle each item. She was dying, and she was preparing. “I don’t want you to die!” I demanded. “Yes, it’s time. I’m so weak.” She was ready.

Relief swept over me as I woke up and realized it was a dream. A moment later I remembered she has been gone for years and grief sat so heavy on my heart I could barely breathe.

Sometimes, when I’m driving and a certain song comes on the radio I can see her, next to me in the seat, rocking back and forth – singing her heart out. Smiling, I turn up the radio and sing my heart out too. She is the one who taught me about being fully in a moment. She is the one who taught me that it is absolutely impossible to NOT be in the moment when I’m passionately singing every word as if it just might be my saving grace – my life’s pain and prayer in one sweet melody.

What is remembered lives.

Maybe that’s my way of being in denial that she’s gone. Maybe that’s my way of tormenting myself with the feeling that she’s standing behind me as I type, or somehow secretly spying on me as I hold my granddaughter. If I could stop this pain, or keep tormenting myself with her real or imagined presence – my heart would continue to break wide open every day.


What is remembered lives.