Dwight told me, “You need to live long enough to be a very old lady; much older than me. You are my memory.”
Now, here I am.
I’m without Dwight.
Today, Easter Sunday, I texted Dan. He is the only person who remembers Thanksgiving mornings at Sundance. We woke up early to chop apples, celery, and leeks for the stuffing.
Last week, my students finished reading, The Giver. I am the Receiver of Dwight’s memories.
With whom do I share them? How?
While Dwight and I did not celebrate Easter much, we did use the crockpot. This morning, I woke up early; chopped broccoli, onion, and peppers. Then, I combined the veggies with potatoes, cheese, and an egg mixture.
Finally, I switched the crockpot to HIGH, said a prayer to the Food Gods, and wished I could call Dwight.