Memories

Many years ago, I read a short piece in a woman's magazine about clearing out the home of an elderly woman after her death. Among her belongings they found a large ball of string (frugal people used to save string, rubber bands, pieces of foil, bread bags, etc. for some need in the future). It was labelled, "Pieces of string too short to use." That's how I feel about my memories; I'm grateful I started a blog (web log, or diary on the internet) 20 years ago, because I remembered then details I can't recall now. I occasionally recall something from Alameda, CA during our time there in WWII, or an event at Faith Lutheran in Forreston, IL where we lived after Dad's time in the Marines. One piece of string I found today for which I have no story to write because I was trying to remember the pastor's name, is how cute my little brother looked in his Bumble Bee costume for the Mother's Day program at the church.
It's a piece of string too short to use.

Billy Collins wrote a poem called "Forgetfulness" in 1994. It's the only poem I have posted on my refrigerator. https://youtu.be/aj25B8JYumQ?si=M5m15Zd1J-cI5zvX You can hear the audience laugh, but you'll recognize every line. It's happened to you,

This 2011 blog entry includes both Alameda and Forreston at Christmas. Collecting My Thoughts: Monday Memories--Christmas in the 1940s

Collecting My Thoughts: Monday Memories of Kindergarten and Alameda

Throwing out the 4th draft of a 25 year old never published paper

 I think I'm in my 5th day of packing and pitching--my professional files (if you think I write a lot now, it's nothing like the 1990s), valentines from 3rd grade, letters to my parents, fiction and poetry I wrote in the 1990s. I can only do about 2 hours a day. Sad and disturbing. It's unbelievable what I've forgotten, but when I re-read those files, I don't want to throw away what I didn't know was stored in musty boxes. I have no recollection of applying for an exchange program to attend a Negro college in the south in 1958, but I told my parents about in a letter home from Manchester College.  And the next month there was a letter to them filled with my plans to attend the University of Illinois to study Russian.   And then. In a folder I found a photocopy of a poem written by Billy Collins (Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003) and published in Harper's Magazine, October, 1994. It's called simply, "Forgetfulness." I checked the internet and found a YouTube of his own performance. The audience was laughing.  I wasn't--it's a very sad poem.  

 https://youtu.be/aj25B8JYumQ   https://poets.org/poem/forgetfulness