"When everything else has gone from my brain ... what will be left, I believe, is topology: the dreaming memory of land as it lay this way and that." Annie Dillard
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Of course, I can't find it. What I discover instead are travel snaps, family group shots, photos of Copper, our sweet doggie, gone these many months. Memories, in other words.
Though I look through many of these photographs easily, I can barely glance at others. Some day soon. But not yet.
Labels: memory
posted by Anne Cassidy at
7:54 AM
I’m a writer and editor, the author of "Parents Who Think Too Much" and a freelancer published everywhere from the "New York Times" to "Woman’s Day." I’ve been scribbling my thoughts in one tattered notebook or another for most of my life, but this blog is the first time I’ve gone public. I'm glad you've landed here, and I hope you visit often.
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