“April is the cruelest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot, “breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory with desire.” Eliot did not write happy poems about birds and flowers, but knew that often the snow of winter covered what had been a deep unhappiness and concern. In days of beauty we are often reminded of what we miss most.
Half a century does not dull pain; it transforms it into something different, appreciation of life, a realization that one’s memories do not fade with time. The man behind me in his car honked furiously as I slowed down to let the opossum cross the road in safety. Why do people think that they are more important than the life that is all around us?
The memories of those we loved keeps them alive in our hearts. But I grieve for the children of Ukraine whose memories of death are mingled with those of destruction. How will their memories be transformed? How, indeed?
Prayer for the Day
Source of mercy, who created us with minds to have memory,
Bathe our wounds so our memories are healed by transformation;
Wellspring of hope, spring up within and among us,
Enabling us to be vehicles of your presence in the world.
Open us to the love that casts our fear making love evident in our lives
So we bring the world into peace through your righteousness.
In the name of the One who proclaimed your kingdom,
Even Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
Thoughts for the Day
Memories warm you up from the inside, but they also tear you apart.
Haruki Murakami, from Kafka on the Shore.
The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.
Lois Lowry, from The Giver
When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
The moon and stars that yu have established;
What are human beings that ou are mindful of them,
Mortals that you care for them?
Psalm 8: 3-4