The Latin phrase, in memoriam which we commonly use to announce or honour someone who has died, literally means ‘into memory’. It’s a curious phrase isn’t it — an acknowledgement of a shift that nothing new or forthcoming is to be expected, all that remains are memories.
I was made aware of the death of an acquaintance this morning. I will not say that I knew her well; our paths ran casually parallel for a few years. But maybe because I did not know she was ill and had no memory of her being ill, the information has been more rattling. Then on my walk this morning I came upon this Robin egg — lost suddenly also. It seems death is a little outspoken this morning.
However, the final word is never death, in memory, in memoriam the final word is life: laughter, pain, confusion and joy shared together. When I saw this broken egg, knowing it was a Robin egg I thought less about whatever tragedy of nature had occurred and more about the Robin I had just seen flying — already practicing I suppose, releasing it into memory.
too soon; I tried
to incubate another stanza
but everything fell, emptying into
© 2016 – Laurel Archer