As the images of storms past hover and sink deeply into our minds, many of us tend to rearrange our memories and allow them to fade.
This is unacceptable behavior.
The only plea a teller of true tales can make that is worth making is: Please don’t let this happen. Write down/record each detail of your experience, whether you were in the eye or whether you escaped physically untouched. Fact is, we were all touched, deeply and irrevocably.
What matters now is to work these events through the template of a muse, so that some degree of peace and closure and perspective can occur.
You are your own book, whether you know it or not, and now is the time to transcribe your life, to come to terms with the preamble, duration and aftermath of what you have lived.
The most important thing: Each non-storm day in a writer’s life is worthy of examination, too. Storms are easy to remember. Slippery moments of significance can fall to the ground and roll under something, out of sight, out of memory.
Don’t let that happen. Attention must be paid.
(Photo of Jim Reed by Jim Reed)
Jim Reed is the editor of Birmingham Arts Journal. Its April 2012 issue will feature literature and art inspired by the April 2011 tornadoes.