with a view of the mountains

the older woman who sat next to me at the wedding told me about her son moving home. she said she was happy to have him back again, after the ten years he spent on the east coast finding a bride and pursuing his career. there's something of a mother's pride in having her children close. I can't say I exactly understand it. after commenting on how lovely the bride, she offered that souvenir meant 'memory' in french.

"that's so nice, isn't it? a perfect word for it." she smiled and I nodded absently.

later I thought of dave berman and one of his poems, about how the only thing a souvenir reminds you of is the moment you bought it.

never look back