It is almost Christmas and this is a picture of our old house. Rosemary loved it and the garden. She never forgave me for having us sell it and moving to Kits. She wanted land. That old house is full of the happy memories we had in it together.
And yet in this little house that our younger granddaughter says is cozy, memories persist. At any moment I think she will come up the stairs from the kitchen. Only once did I dare smell her scent on one of her white nightgowns.
I brushed my teeth tonight. She bought that tube of toothpaste. When will I be able to see something that is not of her?
Sounds do not fade instantly. Scent and smells persist and somehow they lodge in our "scent" memory cells. Is some of her still here?
Since I studied the Leibniz/Newton calculus I know that asymptotes touch that axis at infinity. While there is no indentation of the mass of her little body on her side of the bed I know that something of her remains.
That is comforting.
Who Will Be First? May 18, 2013