What Lies In Between

Today's guest post is by the wonderful Darrelyn Saloom, who is
working with Deirdre Gogarty
on a memoir. Follow Darreyln on Twitter,
or read
more of her guest posts. Pictured above: "The Farm" by Heather
Holland.

It’s been a long, cold winter south of
Interstate 10. And there have been losses. Last month, Mama called to
tell me her brother-in-law died. In January, it was her middle sister,
Opal. “That is life,” my mother told me. “Nothing you can do about it.”

Mama’s
words summoned thoughts of the people I’ve lost. What would I do with a
little more time? The answer came easy. I’d ask more questions. About
childhoods and yearnings, first loves and heartaches, triumphs and
mistakes. And then I’d hush up and listen.

The setting for asking
these questions would be the front porch of a beloved old farmhouse.
I’d hang up a comfortable swing. I’d even conjure a nice breeze if the
air was thick with heat and humidity. A colorful sunset would seem
fitting.

I’d meet departed friends and family on that porch, my
grandparents, my father, my sister Janie.

Mama was right. There is
nothing I can do about loved ones who have gone. But there is something I
can do about loved ones still with me. And now that winter has given
way to spring, I’ve bought several new notebooks and a new pen.

My
intention is to gather narratives during the next round of seasons. I
invite you to join me. Begin where you like. I think I’ll start with my
mother. After all, Mama was my first word. I imagine it’ll be my last.
What lies in between is nothing but stories.