Anamnesis

We had a narrow window to go by Erika’s childhood home. The new owners couldn’t be there, so they left stuff on the porch for us to pick up. Her mom was still asleep, which was just as well. She might have needed to be strapped to the roof after we loaded the car. It was a strange moment of nostalgia for me too, even though I’d never been there. I experienced the house through dozens of stories and hundreds of pictures. I can only imagine the conflicting thoughts going through Erika’s head as we drew closer to where she grew up… to the place that brought a lot of pain a year ago. It’s a beautiful older neighborhood. The nearby train station was completely different than I had imagined and seen in photos. Even the house seemed like an echo. It once again proved to me how powerfully imagination and resonance of emotion can infuse a place.  Driving away from her childhood home evoked a similar sensation to what I once felt when I left my grandma and grandpa’s house at the end of summer.

Anamnesis is similar to nostalgia and it’s a word most people don’t know.

Upon our return to the Airbnb house, Erika spent time trying to reduce and arrange what we had placed in the car; the leftovers from the house and memories from her bedroom closet. I took a moment to hang a coffee cup from a tree along the back perimeter. It’s one of significance but honestly I can’t remember where I obtained the cup. One day, I’ll look at the picture of the cup I hung on this Wednesday morning 1300 miles away from where I call home. It too will provide an anchor and resonance for emotion that is difficult to pronounce.

What a strange life!

Love, X
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