I try to remember What I walked into the store to buy The words to my favorite song To pack my raincoat, just in case. Also, I try to remember When the fireflies synchronized their lights last year And all the secret rock ledges the green salamanders shelter in I try to remember How many times I heard the great-horned owl call to its mate in November, or was it December? Sometimes I worry I will forget The kettle on the stove, Where I keep the batteries for the flashlight To feed the dog before I walk out of the door. But even more, I worry I will forget To don my best coat and attend the woodcock’s sunset skydance in February To rejoice when the sassafras leaves unfurl their palms towards the light in spring I worry I will forget To feel the thrill of the first wood thrush song calling summer into the deep green forest. Sometimes I am afraid I will forget To trust in the process To tell you ‘I love you’ before we say goodbye I am afraid I will forget The sound of your voice after you are gone I am afraid I will forget The beauty of the twisted trunk Was born out of raging winds and a yearning for light That when my heart is grieving to see my favorite tree fallen This may become the birthplace of your favorite tree Most of all, I am afraid I will forget When the darkness of night is bearing down So heavily I cannot breathe The sun always rises.
I have never had a great memory. I struggle to keep up with daily tasks. Sometimes, forgetting is born from avoidance, but often it is simply having too many things to remember. If I let them, the to-dos get jumbled into an anxiety tangle in my head. I make lists to untangle them and to have peace in my mental space. I make lists to make sure I do not forget the things I truly want to remember.
I also make mental lists of moments that just cannot be fully captured any other way. The way the air feels on my skin, the surrounding sounds, and the smell of a rainstorm are all combined with a visual image. I breathe in, close my eyes, and say “Don’t forget this moment, ever!” I want to have a catalog of moments captured when my body will not allow me to walk into the wilderness, when I can no longer take a boat out into the Jocassee Gorges, when I am sitting in the recliner waiting for someone to stop by, like the people we used to deliver Meals on Wheels to. I want to have my special places memorized so well that I can paint a beautiful picture to any helpless soul caught in my web for just a moment, so that I can replay the familiar scenes that have filled my heart and instantly feel at home wherever I am. This is why everyday with words, photographs, with mental notes filed into the corners of my mind, I make lists.
What would be on your “Do Not Forget!” list?
This past year in the gorges was filled with images and light that I hope I never forget. My favorite memories of the gorges: a barred owl watching my boat glide into Gaddy’s Cove and not flying off. And the sound and site of four cubs with their mother moving through leaves along the shoreline of Howard’s Creek, or me motoring past an Eagle standing on a river rock.
Lovely poem, Tricia. Thank you! My wish for you is that all the memories, the sights and smells and sounds, will live in your heart even if they fade from your mind.