The floodlight lays down shadows of the elm tree across my bed. The breeze through my window animates them. It’s dark in Ionia. Stark against the dimmed white walls and bed curtains, shines a luminous glow from my picture frame. Every few seconds, an image of a moment of our lives comes up, pauses, and gently moves away as a fresh replacement makes its way to the forefront of the screen.
For a year now, at home, in the hospital, I lie mesmerized by watching the scenes play out of my young children, their school years, their graduation from college, marriage. Then the procession of 5 beautiful grandchildren are introduced, from birth to young adults, moving away from home, creating lives of their own.
I keep trying to sear the images in my brain, so as I sleep or age, they will replay in my memory, in my heart. And the laughter.
I am so blessed that I shiver as i write this. And when I go home I will take more time to take in memories with my hands, and all my senses. And I will take these with me wherever i go. There will be no strange place that will rob me of who I am and those I love, because they will live forever.
Papa, Sofia and Jesse, are you listening? Good. Love, Vicki