How to Make Memories When the World Stops
by Shelly Blankman
Memory books line my shelves with pages of life
in pictures . . . moments in time that might otherwise
fade — photos, tickets, programs, awards.
But what happens when the world halts? When
pages of time have no record of trips, outings,
holidays, family gatherings. Nothing to capture
on film. This was my new challenge. Not the materials.
Special glues and pens, papers and stickers. I had
those. But how I do I fashion fond memories from dreary
days that blur, seasons that vanish like steam from windows,
quiet moments that fill our time where noise and color used
to be? Life as we knew it could only be pieced together like
the puzzle of a world that had fallen apart. Personal pictures
that could only be replaced now by snippets of time —
news clippings of Black lives that mattered and a new president
who would matter, too. Screenshots of Scattergories on Zoom
with our kids, now quarantined in Texas and New York, their
laughter echoing in our own living room. A screenshot of my
my husband, tallit on shoulders, yarmulke on head, cat by his side,
leading Shabbat services on Zoom with a congregation no longer
able to pray and sing side by side. And Zoom dinners with friends
and family, on-line toasts to a time when we could clink our glasses
to a future of a world of hugs and hope. A time when my scrapbook
can be filled with festive memories of travels and family gatherings.
New memories for a world reclaimed
PHOTO ART: Heart if home by Holly Lay (Polaroid emulsion on glass and mixed media).
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Shelly Blankman lives in Columbia, Maryland. She and her husband are currently quarantined there from two sons: Richard of New York City, and Joshua of San Antonio, Texas. Richard and Joshua surprised her last year with her first book of poetry, Pumpkinhea (available on Amazon). Her work has also appeared in a number publications, including Literary Review-East, Ekphrastic Review, and Verse-Virtual.
Silver Birch Press 
Excellent picture of our emotional life during quarantine.
Yes please. Can’t wait to come out of hibernation. Love the poem, Shelly.
So very accurate. “seasons that vanish like steam from windows” captures the feelings of distance, loss, brokenness, like puzzle pieces scattered on the floor. Love it.