Meandering through memory loss

It snowed today. A lovely sticky snow that stuck to branches.
a person could say winter is still here, but it is Spring.
The calendar says so. Here in Minnesota the usual two step waltz forward and back between the seasons....warmth and cold.


Somehow refreshing to have a simple blanket of white. as if its purity could blot out the terrible world news of terrorist attacks in Brussels....as if...as if...once again trying to understand news that is too hard to understand..but feel...and wishing all the lit candles in memory cleared a way...and as fragile as those hopes are, they flicker and are strong.


It is Purim and the celebration of good over evil  in the ancient story is all the more poignant at this time of extreme brokenness with the rise of irrational and dark forces...


I visit my dear friend as always on a Wednesday afternoon..the news of the day is spread across her red bedspread...we reach as always for art and music as we begin our meandering conversation amid the synchronicity of a Vienna waltz that signifies and symbolizes my mother's presence, her best friend for decades..every day marked by a long philosophical conversation in which they shared troubles, rose up above them to discuss world events and then shared troubles again...somehow resolving so much along the way...and the bond of friendship so deep..and our families so woven together.


Even though my friend suffers from memory loss, we navigate our beloved territory of art with ease..I take her on a journey and read to her the NYT  descriptions of museum shows around the country..we soar off to these places in our imaginations and imagine all the beautiful art there is to behold. We make it to the Houston Museum, the Norton Museum in West Palm Beach and then with certainty back to the beloved Metropolitan Museum of Art....from moment to moment we meander through memory loss, but art anchors us and we find sure footing as we journey..landing at a show at the Met about Unfinished works of art by many artists..
My little phone takes us there and back...and we look at each piece carefully and find what is mysterious and unfinished in the works of art with blank faces and unpainted bodies...all of it complete somehow..and despite the empty space of memory loss and the meandering corridors it leads us down..we find our way home as art holds our hand.


darkening twilight descend..and I share the details and inspirations of my walk around the lake yesterday...my friend receives my inner life and holds it in her heart with clarity and enthusiasm...I feel like a ship who has sailed into a good port as we talk into the oncoming darkness of the evening.


the pure white snow holds each foot step of mine as I make it out to the car... renewed by our time together.....I feel the sadness of the world..distanced  a bit .....I feel healed by the circle of light created in our conversation


I drive home into the mystery of night...allowing my deeper questions to float down river where they find a home in larger answers out of sight where river meets the vast sea..