5 months

I never thought 5 months could be a whole lifetime.

I never thought 5 months would haunt me for a lifetime.

I never thought 5 months could fit in a single shoebox.

I never thought 5 months would be so hard to forget.

I never thought 5 months would scar so deep.

I never thought 5 months could have love bloom so completely.

I never thought 5 months could cause heartbreak.

I never thought 5 months would be all I got.

Her name was going to be Cordelia.

Before

Something amazing happened the other day.

It started badly.

I was speaking with my father about childhood memories.  He was appalled to discover I didn’t have any distinct memories from before we moved to Ohio.

Which is obviously because that’s when the splintering happened.  But my father is in high denial about that stuff.

Suddenly though, I remarked, “Well, I remember when I was playing by an old tree stump and got stung by a bee. And it scared me. I think I ran over to you.”

My dad broke into a smile.

“That was in Boston. You were probably 3 years old. It was one of the only times you ran to me before your mom.”

I stared.

Boston?

That’s before the splinter.

I have absolutely no other memories of Boston. That’s even before we went back to Chicago for a time.

I remembered something from before! And not just a couple months before.  Years before!

I’m holding this memory close as a candle to keep away the creeping darkness.

Photo Credit

Guilt was like that, I had
discovered.
Remote, until it struck. I
heard her still, the friend I’d had,
the woman I’d betrayed. When I
slept I could feel the curve of her
hip against mine.
I’d heard that
demons could attach themselves to
a person. Once this was
accomplished, it was impossible to
leave them behind or dismiss them.
At night they closed their hands
over yours with a predatory
ownership.
They whispered a single
word in your ear: Mine.

-Alice Hoffman, “The Dovekeepers”