Memory?

Pondering memory this morning. Writing an essay about Patches, the cat, who my mom turned lose when I was 8. (Just remembered what became of Patches, and her kitten, Toughy, both turned out near the Ocean Beach (San Diego county, California) surf.) Although something is telling me that Patches met a sadder fate than her kitten. Dim memory of the jetty rocks, a splash and my distraught mother before she started screaming about Jesus’ imminent return and my likely transformation into salt pillars should I crane my neck in a backward glance.

Also, looked at the listings of high school classmates on Facebook. Only recognize a few of them, and not because they’ve changed (we all have), but I don’t recall many of them by their names. Memories, 31 years and 22 years. It’s a strange thing sometimes, unpacking the trunk.

-Christy

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One Response

  1. […] 1978 summer night in Ocean Beach, he thought he was doing. Actions that pushed my mother to the breaking point. How do you forgive that? I don’t know. But I’m hoping to […]

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