I long to hear the words of my past loved ones. I strain with deliberation to feel the details of the meaningful conversations of the lives that have been laid to rest.
The cycle is making its turn… the aroma comes upon me like the scent of the pines in the forest of my life. I am absorbed before I can react with any conscious effort.
How long can my mind expel these memories? The smiles of my grandmother as she pats my grandfather… the gleam of love that was only a fraction of time between them… was only a passing moment of communication between two sworn hearts. Still, it left a memorable impression upon my soul that will last for eternity through their memory.
As I now peer into the eyes of my young offspring, I feel the love that was passed on to me by my parents. My heart is filled with exuberance and immortality by their smiles and laughter. Time is of more importance to me. I feel compelled to leave meaningful impressions behind to be captured by those who are within my circle.
I reminisce through photographs when my mind becomes dry of memorabilia… the library of my inner man becomes intoxicated with the re-emergence of the past. These portions of recollections do not disappear; they only hide as if by exercise.
I see the same charge of electrical communication in the photographs of the loves that have bee impaled upon my heart and soul. This glimmer is an immeasurable gift left by my ancestors to be passed down to the lives that I am now responsible for.
I will release the waters of my soul upon the benefactors of the memories of my life. Will they have to chase time until he becomes the pursuer? The maker of our chronometer has always known what is vital to our happiness and fulfillment. God… family… loved ones… all makers of memories…
Shannon R Killman
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