Memorial Day morning—sunny and quiet. The chickens are roaming in the run, the cat asleep on the bench, the rabbit nibbling a grape leaf. There is tea and toast for breakfast and the light is on the dining table. We traditionally stay at home on this weekend; the outdoor world of campgrounds and lakes is packed with families gathering together, making a joyous racket late into the night. Instead, I make my Aunty Marilyn’s macaroni salad, with the gherkins and tuna fish, red onion for a bite, maybe grill some tofu and zucchini, and prepare for the last push of the school year. It is a quiet time, this last weekend in May, nostalgic, as another senior class gets ready to head out the door. We remember the past.
My juniors are reading The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien this week, discovering his musings on the nature of war, and friendship, and story—what is true and what is real are not always the same thing. It is a good way to end this long, strange, difficult year, thinking about story. What will we tell each other about this time of disease, racial and political strife, and discontent? What have we learned? What will we take out of this dark time, moving forward?
“Stories will save us.”
