Bleaching Memories

I left a drawing of a javelina sitting by the window where the sun streams in. The August sun is rather bright here in the desert flats and the drawing has faded. If I left it there just another week or two, I bet it would fade completely away.

You know I hate being trite and silly but I actually did have the thought of leaving my head in that hot Arizona sun for a while just to see if that would work for me. Do you suppose it could fade those black memories? Maybe make some of them shrivel up and die?

I know I am being stupid and childish but at this stage, every possible cure enters my mind–even the trite ones. Besides, you know what the sun does to me. I tan with ease but with little effort, I would be just one big freckle.

OH! OH! I hate to change the subject from such a dark one to a kind of funny, touching memory.

When Mother first became ill, I gave her one of those memory books. You know the ones that you go through and it has all these questions about your past so you can share them with your family. Like who took you on your first date? What was your favorite song when you were 16? As well as the mundane things about your high school, your favorite teacher, etc.

She and I never spoke of it again but when I was going through her things after she died, I found it. Going through her things was sad but I thought seeing what she had written might be a peaceful enjoyable diversion.

I flipped through the pages and found them to be blank until I came across the only entry she had made in the entire book. It asked, “When you were a child, what was your nickname?” In pencil, she had written “Freckles”. That was all. The rest of the book was blank. You can’t help but wonder what there was about that question, that fact, that caused her to answer. The only answer in the whole book.