Memories

I wrote this during our summer Joy Write meeting two weeks ago. I had been rehearsing it in my mind for days, since this moment had occurred. I had to wait for the time to write it down. That’s my writing process these days. Days in my mind, stealing moments to feverishly jot down the words, my mind always flowing faster than my hand.

Wren held the hem of her dress up, to create a vessel for carrying the chosen friends of the day: a stuffed dog from her kindergarten teacher, a tiny unicorn from a special friend, and a handful of other creatures who had come to find their home with us over the years.

“That reminds me of Grandma,” my mom said, recalling her own mother. “When we went to Italy, she climbed a chestnut tree. She gathered her dress just like that. She filled it with chestnuts.”

I could picture this clearly because as a kid I had seen my Grandma climb a fair number of trees-to pick peaches from the tree in the yard or to hang a handmade scarecrow to keep critters away from the garden. I also knew she loved chestnuts. I’d bought them as a gift for her before- the kinds of gifts that she appreciate because they bring her back to where she came from.

“You holding your dress that way reminded me of Grandma. Now you know that story,” my mom continued. “Someday, maybe you’ll even tell your own kids-or grandkids.”

Or we could write it down, I thought to myself. Preserved forever.