If You're Breathing

Most of us are born, live and die in what feels like one lifetime. When it comes time to hang it up, we surprise our younger selves and lay the spurs in the common pile for one last time. We wore them well, rode tall and now it's time to rest. A long rest. We're tired. I've looked into many eyes, tired but satisfied eyes. Green eyes, moist eyes, sparkled eyes, cloudy eyes. There are abundant memories in those eyes. 


Often, one story, a lifeline will lead you back into those memories like following a guide into a dark cave. A time in the military, a life changing event, a relationship that endured, some story that is linear and sustaining will lead you to any number of chambers in the mysterious cave of a human mind. Light may be shed in some rooms for the first time, other rooms passed by for ever. There is something in there worth rediscovering, reclaiming.


i often hear family gather together to tell stories of their departed, and some where in the story, someone will go, "Really, I never knew that." Their loved one is gone but still full of surprises, some fascinating, some puzzling, some a bit dodgy. 


I often ten think it might be better to tell these memories when we are still alive, still breathing.