No Inconsequential Choices

12/5/23    "No Inconsequential Choices" by Amber Counts

I reflect on the combination of random, wild, mindless, labored, right or wrong choices made by my parents that resulted in my existence. If one ponders the infinite possibilities or potential parallel universes created by each decision, a mental fight, flight, or freeze reflex takes hold. I feel overwhelmed by the near impossibility of me.

Calculating these moments of fateful decision-making as they compound exponentially through ancestors and time, I freeze in awe not just of my own existence but also of everyone and every historical consequence throughout human history.

And it's not just the choices my ancestors made but also the choices made for them, about them, and around them that continue to shape reality in ways foreseen and unforeseen. For we are all part of a great human tapestry women both together and in isolation, and the thread I carefully weave might be reinforced or unraveled by another.

If we let ourselves really think about the weight of our choices, feel the ramifications of each decision, even the mundane "What do I want for dinner?" would induce crippling fear of negative or unforeseen consequences. So we continue in darkness, in the space between potential universes, under the illusion that some choices matter more than others. 

Memories, Forgotten

12/4/23

When I need inspiration to write, I often read a poem-of-the-day on one of the following sites:

• Poets.org - https://poets.org/poem-a-day 

• PoetryFoundation.org - https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/poem-of-the-day 

12/4/2023 Inspiration: “Yiddishland” by Erika Meitner https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57958/yiddishland 

My poem…

“Memories, Forgotten” by Amber Counts

I listened to my grandmothers’ stories.

I swear I did.

I leaned forward with anticipation each time

They shared their experiences,

Told tales of our ancestors whom I would never know

(But whose choices still shape reality),

Or allowed glimpses into who they were–

Separate from my grandmothers–

        Who they really were–

        I listened.

And I remember a great deal, but not enough.

My ancestors’ names have begun slipping through

Gaps in my memory.

How many siblings accompanied each of my great-grandparents

Along his or her life’s journey?

Why did my maternal family move to Texas

(And from where did they come)?

How many stories of love, adversity, and perseverance

Are now lost to time?

At least some of that loss is my fault.

So I will tell my children how one of their great-grandmothers 

Skipped school to drag-race

While the other skipped class to ride in an open-cockpit biplane.

And I will record how one married for love

While the other married for War.

And I will report how the love of these two

Infinitely strong and compassionate women

Saved and shaped my life.

At least this will be remembered.