Merely Day By Day

"We certainly bring the average age up in this room," I comment to my friend, Julie, chuckling as we enter the classroom.  It's the first day of our summer teacher leadership class at OSU.  We thought it might be fun to take a few classes.  We're kind of crazy like that.  Everyone in this class appears young and quite driven.  It's going to keep me on my toes I think as I assess the situation and look for a place to sit down. She laughs as we find seats in the crowded room.  I put down my bags which have grown quite heavy with my computer, books, and other items needed for a full day on campus.  Opening my computer I realize I cannot get into the campus secure Wifi or my OSU account.  "What was that password?" I wonder aloud as I check my phone to see if I was smart enough to put it in my notes.  It's not there.  I try password after password with no success. I lean over to see how Julie is doing getting logged in while I find...

They carried your stories away today damaged and broken: the violin that played the music, of your childhood the books that rested in your hands, the Old Maid we slid around the table, the piece we made  standing side by side in your workshop as I listened to your words weave your lessons into my life. I held each in my hand as we said goodbye trying to reach back in time for the story. Years have passed. Your voice fading, the memories now black and white: your music playing in the back room as Grandma and I washed dishes, the day's crossword puzzle  in your tired hands, all distant. They carried your stories away today: the books that shaped your life, the projector that helped me to see the world through your eyes. These pieces  of your history that have guided my journey. How will I remember  without holding them in my hand? © Cathy L. Mere, 2016 It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by Random Noodli...