Memories

The room we entered was brightly lit, although I hardly remember it that way. When I dig into the depths of my memory I see the dozen or so men gathered around a table. The details of the room, the furnishings, the chairs, I can't picture them any longer.
The men were dressed in black suits, because that is how it always was. They were elderly or middle-aged as it was so hard for a young man to have the life experience needed.
We sat to the side. All eyes upon us, my breasts heavy, reminding me of the baby at home. All the while I spoke to myself and to the child I just delivered. It's not true, today is a lie, but I have no choice. My fingers crossed, but only in my mind.

How come that memories fade and truths are distorted over time? Even when the memories are of life-changing events? The details around the event change in my mind and I search my brain for clues. Sometimes you hear people say "Today is a day I will never forget". They say this about their wedding day or the birth of their first child. Details become fuzzy though and all that remains are memories of the core event and emotions. Some details are only kept fresh through photos and film.

For me what remains is the feeling of self-betrayal. Who knew it could be so strong? Going against everything you believe in proofs to be damaging, even with fingers crossed. How many times have I relived this day, but changing my answer to: I have no regrets.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~