remember

What? What every American who remembers is doing this morning: remembering.

Memories are personal and different for each of us. We remember what is significant to us, memorable. Some memories are ours alone, and die over time, or when we die. Some memories never die. Remember Pearl Harbor. Remember 9/11. Sometimes we remember just the event, sometimes we also remember the date. Robert remembers where he was, how he felt, and what he did on December 7, 1941, I do not. 

I remember where I was and what I was doing on April 12, 1945, and on August 14, 1945, and on June 25, 1950, and in Yokohama, Japan on Saturday morning, November 23, 1963, a Friday here in America, that changed our history going forward.

And on Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001, another that changed everything forever.

Predawn, Monday morning, January 24, 2011.

Memories, memory, I'm thinking about how personal memory is. Impulses and synapses connecting and flashing. They keep me awake at night when I lay me down to sleep and "sleep don't come". Memories. Good and not, cherished and regrets, some thank-God and others if-only, memories shared, and memories too personal to share this side of the veil.

Victims' loved ones this morning, survivors reading - - how many names? Memories.

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Birthday, it's my birthday weekend, starting yesterday by roasting a leg of lamb and opening a package from Tallahassee. Right now, while the 9/11 memorial ceremony plays on television, along with a cup of the coffee, a small handful of TJ's roasted & salted truffle Marcona almonds from Spain. Today a slice of coconut cake and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Play it out, make it last, on the final day, Tuesday, September 14th, from being tucked in the freezer for some weeks, lobster I ordered from Maine. 

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But memories. 

And these are really good almonds.

RSF&PTL

T+