On November 26, 2017 my dear friend Tess Pfeifer left this world. It is fitting that Teresa and I first met in a writing workshop in Amherst, MA as the precious core of our friendship had, at its heart, both the love of language, and the language of love. Teresa's contributions to family, friends and community left this world a better place. A devoted mother, teacher, librarian, sister, poet, mentor, grandmother, and friend - she is missed by all.
Perhaps your memory is hazy as sea glass, smooth and etched into softer blues, subtle greens or chalky whites. The clarity of a window you passed long ago has faded. You remember church bells, the smell of basil, the day you found your car had been towed, but then the sun melts into the bay and here you are.
Maybe a bad memory is no memory at all, but a haunting. It could be a story someone told you, a newspaper column about a Japanese woman who died and was eaten by her cats, or the other stories you read for pleasure. Sometimes you wonder what’s behind that door you closed, the place where you came from, and then you're treading dark water. Your bad memory is like a stray dog that wanders off somewhere and once home, you think it may carry a disease or it must have ticks or fleas.
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