Fading.....

I have a small red spot in the center of my abdomen.
It’s from the bite of some unknown critter.
I notice it every day.
Everyday it gets a little smaller and fades a little more.

I got it six months ago when I was in South Africa.

Like the red spot on my torso, my memories of Africa are shrinking and fading a little every day.
But they are still with me, still a part of me, something I notice every day.

I haven’t written much about my experience in South Africa.
I’ve never known quite what to say.
It was interesting.
It was enlightening.
It was life-changing.
But aren’t we changed by everywhere we’ve been and everyone we’ve met?

I don’t know if I’m more changed by the people I went with,
or the people I met there,
by the good things that happened there
or the not-so-happy things.


I’ve put the quilts I bought there on my beds, hung the wall-hangings on my walls, and set my Zulu dolls out. I guess I’m hoping if I look at them long enough I’ll want to write about it.
I know I don’t want to forget.


So this is a start, though not much of one.
Words seem to add color and give strength to a greying experience.


I wonder what else I should write about before it fades away.


“It’s getting dark,” my Dad often said to hurry us up.

Indeed, the night is coming on.