Real talk

Margie and I met today instead of Thursday this week because yesterday was her baby girl’s 63rd birthday. I asked how they celebrated, and Margie said they did something in the afternoon, but she couldn’t remember what. They went out to dinner at a Peruvian restaurant, but she couldn’t remember the name of the place nor what they ate. She said she knows it was delicious, and they shared each dish, but what was that place? Seems like it had a B in the name. Or did it?

She told me, “Memory loss is so annoying! You don’t just lose memory; you lose parts of your life. You lose all the details that make memories interesting. I’d like to go to that restaurant again, but how am I going to find it?”

“We can google it,” I assured her. 

“We can,” she chuckled, “but that’s not really the point. I think I’ve been here long enough. It’s time to go already!” She wasn’t talking about the coffee shop. “My children, who are all in their sixties now, and I’m still calling them children—my children want me to hang around forever. That’s not possible, and I want them to acknowledge that.”

“Of course you do.”

She went on, “One night last week I had a marathon dream in which I seemed to review my whole life. In the dream, I thought, ‘I must be about to die,’ but then I woke up and everything went on as usual.”

“That would give you pause, but you’re completely present right now,” I countered, “this moment matters. I guess I'm talking to both of us right now.” 

“Yes,” she agreed, patting my hand. “Yes, this moment does matter. But so does last night, and I’ve lost it, and it makes me annoyed. But I do remember what you’re going through. Mourning is exhausting. You look tired.”

“I am,” I nodded. “Very.”

The good news today is that for once the moneyed forces lost and the forces for the earth won. Portland refused to allow an oil terminal to be built here, despite huge financial incentives. No more tar sands oil, no more fossil fuels will be transported by rail and dumped here. If you’d like to read about it, the whole story is here. It’s a rare joy to have good news to share, a moment in which the people win over the oligarchs. I wanted to go down to the celebration and make photos of it, but I’m too tired.

I've turned comments back on, but I may not be up to responding, so please don't feel obliged to say anything. Thank you, though, for all the hearts over the last few days. You are all so full of love, it's a wonder you don't levitate.