A philosophical poem. |
It doesn’t matter that her parents remember her as their baby, then their child, that her high school friends remember her as a fellow teenager, that her husband remembers her as his wife, that her children remember her as their mother. She has been many things. Yet, at the moment when she passed each stage of life, she became a memory. Once she stopped being a child she became the memory of one, no matter that she was an adolescent. She occupied two states at once. A state of being, the here and now, the living self. The other the memory of her previous age, the dreaming self. When she was seconds away from her death, she had been born seconds ago. Everyone who met her is followed by thoughts of what she did whilst they were together. Haunted by the presence of things that have passed. What is the difference between the non-physical world of memory and the non-physical world of death? A new generation begins. She is a grandmother to them. To everyone else she is a memory. She passes to the next level. This is the last part of her time on earth, not of her time in our minds. She will always be the ghost of a grandmother as a young woman. |