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In memoriam

Lord God of Hosts
Be with us yet
Lest we forget
Lest we forget
--Dedication of Seattle's Volunteer Park, 1953


An unsettled night, only a few scattered hours of sleep. Gave up at the 4:45 wake-up and just started moving. My prayer from the 3:00 wake-up left me blessedly exhausted from weeping. They are pitiful prayers, but my Abba is merciful.

Since I discovered that Victrola was closed until 7:00, I kept walking until I hit Volunteer Park. For its being in my backyard, I've spent practically no time here. I needed a place.

Some of my heart's burden is becoming clearer. It can't all be neatly categorized and sorted, but some of the additional weight is coming from this day: Memorial Day. It's been a very long time, a decade or more, since I've been emotionally awake for it, and I have much to remember (and so much I can't).

My family will meet at our family cemetary today, across the country from me. My cemetary is in my mind. Row upon row, remembered and forgotten. Today I'll walk there. Mostly, I'll remember her: her sacrifice, her love, her presence. In her memory, the others will be honored.

Of course it hits me differently than before, when I was shut down. I need to feel this, too, even if it's likely to be madness. I'm the only one who can remember as I do, even if my memory has always been incomplete, and has darkened further still.

I still miss you, even after all this time.

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