How Easily We Forget.

My mother's birthday will be Saturday. Her 65th. Though I have never forgotten it since I was young enough to remember the 14th of October, I find myself forgetting all the trouble we've gone through since Dad and G. Dode lived with us. Their progressive illnesses. The meals we prepared. Fighting the same old fights over and over and over again until we couldn't stand it any longer. All of it comes back around this time of the year. Autumn nears and the season's harvest means family, closeness and reaching out to those with whom you've lost touch. Perhaps it's time I forget some of the things that I've been holding as grudge. Perhaps it's time to unite family again. All the more important to do just such a thing before my mother's 70th. Her 75th. Her 80th. On and on.

I can forgive some of the others in the family for their transgressions. It remains to be seen if I can forget them on behalf of fullfilling my family's needs for closure. This will only come from finally having me say to my estranged cousins and uncle, "Explain what happened at my wedding," before I tell them, "Welcome back."