Emerging from this cocoon,
this gauze
that has shrouded me for years,
turning me from who I was
into who I am,
I look back,
beyond the beginning of illness
to the past, like a collage,
an old photo album,
a chest full of memories,
artifacts,
diaries…
It is strange,
being on the cusp of something new,
when for so long
and so slowly the movement toward it progressed.
Yet there are fragments of the past that need
remembering, addressing, consulting...
And there is grace meted out,
to face these things.
To remember, the story of my life.
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