Connecting through Stories

This week fire swept through an area in Alberta, Canada burning homes and robbing people there of everything material they owned - including the precious objects they have saved and guarded for years - - the things we hold onto to keep connections alive across generations. When I see this on television news or hear it on the radio  Grief rolls over me and I cry. Until I remind myself - - -
OK - the stuff is gone but the stories aren't.  That's why I collect stories and protect them. I hope you do that too.

This is a piece I wrote during the time Hurricane Katrina robbed the people in New Orleans.

Pieces of Memory

I love "attic" museums.
Small places where they exhibit

the bits of peoples' lives.
Where the obscure becomes important.
Some would say

"all they have is trash."

Where you stumble across the forgotten
Kept because it was precious.

Southerners have an affinity for holding on -

To things.
We want the bits of history 

To tell us who our people were.
So we will know who we are.

We keep stuff - for generations.
A photograph, a piece of lace, a spoon, 
Books, oh, my yes, books
Letters, pens, linens, pots and pans.
And on, and on, and on.

We guard them.

They are us.
Our roots, our connections.

How can you know yourself
Without your stuff?

Today I add - 
You have your stories.

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