What the Wind Knows

by Amy Harmon

The wind you hear is the same wind that has always blown. The rain that falls is the same rain. Over and over, round and round, like a giant circle. The wind and the waves have been present since time began. The rocks and stars too. But the rocks don’t speak, and the stars are too far away to tell us what they know.”

We turn memories into stories, and if we don’t, we lose them. If the stories are gone, then the people are gone too.

“If you can’t say them, write them. They last longer that way. Write all your words, Annie. Write them and give them somewhere to go.”

Don’t revel in tragedy, Annie. Rejoice in love. And once you find it, don’t let it go. In the end, it is the one thing you won’t regret,”

“Someone very wise told me that we keep the people we love in our hearts. We never lose them as long as we can remember how it felt to be loved by them.”

Here, I loved. And, in the end, I wanted to love more than I wanted to return.

“My grandfather told me once that happiness is an expression of gratitude. And it’s never wrong to be grateful.”