xieurx chronicles

- quote from Lord Byron’s “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage”

Tell them.”

Random song lyrics.

Random poetry.

Random Neruda.

“I remembered you with my soul clenched

in that sadness of mine that you know.”

I was listening to an audiobook, and these lines struck me. I had to look up the text.

"I feel something like that, Billy. I'm not afraid to go, but I don't want to leave Minna entirely. The times I spend with her, talking to her, well, it gives me the feeling we're still in touch. When I go, that's the end of Minna. She'll be well and truly dead. We never had any children, almost everyone who knew us is gone, no relatives. And we never did anything important that anyone would put in a record book, so that's the end of us. For me, I don't mind; but I wish there was someone who knew about Minna . . .she was a remarkable person."

So Billy said, "Tell me. I'll remember for you."

Memories in no particular order. Some as strong as ropes that could pull the ocean ashore. Some that shimmered and swayed in the faintest breeze like spiderwebs. The entire person, all the little movements, that dimple that appeared when she was amused at something foolish he had said. Their youth together, their love, the procession of their days toward middle age. The small cheers and the pain of dreams never realized. So much about him, as he spoke of her. His voice soft and warm and filled with a longing so deep and true that he had to stop frequently because the words broke and would not come out till he had thought away some of the passion. He thought of her and was glad. He had gathered her together, all her dowry of love and taking care of him, her clothes and the way she wore them, her favorite knickknacks, a few clever remarks: and he packed it all up and delivered it to a new repository.

Something that plays in my mind when I remember the loved ones who have passed on.

“Death doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We rise and we fall and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm still alive When everyone who loves me has died I'm willing to wait for it (Wait for it) I'm willing to wait for it”

“And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose”