The Sea Remembers Her

In my constant effort to get back on track, I have tried, several times to begin writing creatively again. I have several short story ideas sitting forlornly in an old notebook I bought in the office bookshop (yes, they sell old notebooks), abandoned and unfinished. Funny thing is, I use the same notebook to take down meeting minutes in the office, and I see these story ideas staring up at me when I open my notebook. I just gaze at them for a moment, as if apologizing, like the way you're running to catch a bus and you bump into someone whom you owe some timer for catching up or coffee or a talk, but you're hurrying because you have to leave an attend tosomething (you think) is important. More important. And so I turn the page. To a blank page. With lines to follow so that everything is written in order.

And you apologize and you tell yourself, next time, I'll do it. Next time I'll really sit down to continue the story. Maybe on Thursday. Maybe.

I so want to continue writing them! At a recent birthday party, I was reminded by one of them. It all started when Elmer began talking about Alzheimer's and I remembered my Lola and the story I was writing that was about her. And I'm itching all over to continue. But life gets in the way most of the time.

I want to write about how Mercedes loved the sea. And she would tell me about how it was her best friend. And I want to write about how I feel--that I think I should tell this story before everyone forgets.