A Room Called Remember

“The time is ripe for looking back...and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things we have done and the things we have left undone for a clue to who we are and who, for better or worse, we are becoming. But again and again we avoid the long thoughts….We cling to the present out of wariness of the past. And why not, after all? We get confused. We need such escape as we can find. But there is a deeper need yet, I think, and that is the need—not all the time, surely, but from time to time—to enter that still room within us all where the past lives on as a part of the present, where the dead are alive again, where we are most alive ourselves to turnings and to where our journeys have brought us. The name of the room is Remember—the room where with patience, with charity, with quietness of heart, we remember consciously to remember the lives we have lived.” 
― Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember: Uncollected Pieces

I'm quiet here. Afraid of saying too much. I feel the weight of all that's left unsaid. I know you know. We always heard each other best in the silence. I don't make this place my home - I want you to know that. There are other rooms filled with light and sound called Here and Now and Present where I'm busy, happy and content most of the time. Most of the time. This room called Remember - it's where I used to live, we used to live, in another life. I see your shadow on the wall sometimes - a ghost drifting through. You write your name in the dust on the hearth - one that makes my heart sing: friend.