The Places of Remembering

Love has a memory. That is why I think when someone passes, we often go to the places that they loved to honor and remember them. When my own mom passed away at 95, my brother and I each received some of her ashes, and we took trips either alone or together with family to leave a piece of her behind in the places she had loved.

For my children and grandchildren, the place that holds my mother’s memory the strongest is Leavenworth, Washington at our little family reunions, which she refused to attend until her last three years of life.

But how glorious those last three years were. I taught the the grandchildren two things for a nightly ritual for her. First, I tucked her in as the grandchildren gathered around her bed and sang “Good Night, Irene.”  Then I taught them to say what I said to her every night in her native tongue:  “Guten nacht”( good night), “schlaft gut” (sleep well), and “Ich liebe dich”(I love you)  as they hugged her one by one.  In the face of such love, she was powerless. Her face glowed.

During our July 2015 reunion, she and I danced to a polka band in the town square on a sunny Saturday afternoon. And the next morning, when we preparing to leave, the grandchildren sat on the steps of the condo and sang “Good Night Irene,”but we changed the last line to “we’ll see you next year.” Six weeks later, she was gone.

As we all processed our grief, taking her ashes to the places she loved helped us to remember her spirit of adventure and zest for living. And so I decided that when I am gone, I would just suggest to my own remaining family where they could meet me if they needed to feel my love.

Love Has a Memory

If it is a spring morning, take yourself to a dog park and welcome every dog as if it were your own. Ask their owners to tell you stories about their lives as you walk together for a while like old friends.

Know that  you will find me there in those moments, as you revel in the warmth of this spontaneous community and their generous acceptance.

If it is summer, take yourself to a clear lake and simply lean back, arms outstretched, until water surrounds you like a lover and the chill forces a primal scream from the deepest part of your lungs.

Know that  you will find me there in those moments as you surrender to the water, fully immersed in life.

If it is an early fall morning, get up at dawn as the sun paints an ombre celebration of dark to light. Listen as the universe creates a triumphant symphony in bird song, and swifts glide in impossible patterns.

Know that  you will find me there in those moments as beauty enlarges your heart.

And if it is winter and you pass someone shivering, give them a coat. And if they have a dog, give them a bag of dog biscuits. And if they are shoeless, give them the ones from your own feet.

Know that  you will find me there in those moments as your unexpected compassion becomes a tiny payment towards the huge debt all of us owe to love and to mercy.

In every season, know that you were my oxygen, and you were a sacred repository for every ounce of love ever poured in my direction. If you want to feel my presence watching over you, immerse yourselves in the things I loved. Let yourself notice and soak in small moments of daily grace.

You will find me there.