Saturday, June 7, 2008

forgetting and dreams

last night, a friend and i were talking about r.e.m and he brought up the show at the ryman. i had absolutely no recollection of the concert. i knew i had to have gone, but i remembered nothing of it.  then  i realized it must've been when my mom was first sick.  when i got home, i looked in my bedside drawer and found a journal i had written in around that time.  just a few entries, maybe about 8 pages worth.  i have a really hard time keeping journals.  i write a few pages, and then stop. or i write, and throw it away. what's stopping me?  the embarrassment of someone else possibily reading it one day? i don't know. but as i read through these entries, i realized it was probably the one and only time i was ever really open and honest in a journal (not in the "not lying" sense, but you know, honest with yourself). it was the first time i re-read something and did not want throw it in the trash.  after she passed, i started a list of things i didn't want to forget about her. i wrote 8 things down.  3 years later, and i am afraid i'm forgetting things about her every day.  which brings me back to the r.e.m. show at the ryman. i checked this morning, and the concert was a week after we took my mom to the hospital & received the diagnosis.  i really have blocked a lot of stuff in my mind.  my memory is not what it used to be. and with those thoughts, i fell asleep.

a few nights ago before bed, i looked for mid-century modern furniture on nashville craigslist.   that night, i dreamt i found a vintage glass-and-wood cabinet.  it had a small tv inside.  and  a printer that printed everything in pink ink (?).  i bought it for $40.  the next morning i was suprised at such a quick action-to-dream repsonse.  




1 comment:

Mandy said...

i hate the forgetting. i find myself forgetting things about my mom. like her voice. i want to hear it so badly but i'm scared of how i'll feel if i find some old video or something. sometimes i close my eyes and i feel myself hugging her. because it was that way, always. me hugging her. it was just that way.