Logs:In the Quiet Night - Revision history

K'del at 00:00, 10 April 2015

2015-04-10T00:00:08Z

Bot: Text replace - "{{Log" to "{{Log |involves=High Reaches Weyr"

2015-03-08T22:12:41Z

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2015-02-10T07:41:09Z

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Bot at 06:17, 25 January 2015

2015-01-25T06:17:31Z

Bot at 08:15, 5 July 2014

2014-07-05T08:15:19Z

K'del at 09:55, 19 October 2012

2012-10-19T09:55:15Z

K'del: Created page with "{{ Log | who = Madilla | where = Madilla's Room, High Reaches Weyr | what = Madilla's personal 'day of memories' comes in the middle of winter. | when = Month 1, Turn 30 | gamed..."

2012-10-19T09:21:36Z

Created page with "{{ Log | who = Madilla | where = Madilla's Room, High Reaches Weyr | what = Madilla's personal 'day of memories' comes in the middle of winter. | when = Month 1, Turn 30 | gamed..."

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{{ Log
| who = Madilla
| where = Madilla's Room, High Reaches Weyr
| what = Madilla's personal 'day of memories' comes in the middle of winter.
| when = Month 1, Turn 30
| gamedate = 2012.10.18
| quote =
| weather =
| categories = Vignette
| mentions = B'tal, Delifa, Delvana, Devaki, Eliva, Satiet, Varens, W'chek
| ooc =
| icons =
| log = Every turn, Madilla intends to mark the Day of Memories - that last day of month ten, the one where everyone is supposed to ''remember''. Remember, remember, remember.

She always forgets.

''Her'' day comes in the midst of winter, and it's not a specific day so much as a time of turn: a reminder, a marker. A ''feeling''.

In the quiet night, long after her children have fallen asleep, she watches them by glowlight, and dwells upon the past.

It's fourteen turns, now, since she arrived at the Healer Hall. She remembers ''that'' every turn without fail.

And then she remembers home: that snug little hold so far past Peyton. The cousins and siblings, the aunt and uncle. The mother, whose hugs she can still feel if she closes her eyes and thinks just hard enough.

It's ten turns, now, since she saw them last, and that's an anniversary that doesn't have a date. She remembers that now, too.

It's the days past turnover, when everyone is still full of hope for the new turn; when everyone still believes that this one can be better, more productive, less full of mistakes.

Some turns, she imagines writing home. She imagines telling her mother - all her family - about her children, and her life. She imagines reassuring them that she's happy. That ''This is what I want. This is everything I could possibly want.''

She never, ever, sets pen to hide.

In the quiet night, long after her children have fallen asleep, she watches them by glowlight, and cannot believe how much time has passed.

At the end of winter, Lilabet will turn seven. Three sevens later, Dilan will turn three.

That's not a thing for remembering, though: it's a thing for knowing. It's written on her heart, deep inside of her. In fifty turns time, she'll still know.

Instead, she remembers the ones that aren't. Eliva, whose nine stolen turns are remembered in Delvana, robbed of her twin and soon (oh please, not ''very'' soon) her mother too. Satiet, who it is impossible not to remember in combination with that. (Satiet, who has been gone nearly eleven turns, whose daughters have grown to adulthood.)

B'tal, almost completely forgotten by his daughter except as a mythical person more present and attentive than the reality ever delivered.

It's five turns, now, nearly, since he died. She's dutiful in making sure Lilabet knows her father's family, but it's more difficult now. There's distance.

She hasn't spoken to W'chek in turns. She's not sure why.

There are others. She remembers classmates long since lost to distance and time. She remembers Varens and, with a twist of something she can't classify, Devaki.

In the quiet night, long after her children have fallen asleep, she watches them by glowlight and remembers them as newborns, as toddlers. She remembers life without them, but only barely.

''Remember'', people say, and she does. But sometimes it's hard not to feel the weight of those memories, one turn after another.

She worries that she's forgotten.

That important things will slip through the cracks.

That it's not enough.

In the quiet night, long after her children have fallen asleep, she watches them by glowlight and feels more alone than she can describe.

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← Older revision		Revision as of 09:55, 19 October 2012
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−	In the quiet night, long after her children have fallen asleep, she watches them by glowlight and feels ~~more alone than she can describe~~.	+	In the quiet night, long after her children have fallen asleep, she watches them by glowlight and feels old.
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		+	Where have all the turns gone?

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 Where have all the turns gone?
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