Do you think inanimate things can have a memory? Do you think that something can be involved in something so horrific that the residual energy lingers around that object somehow? Do you wonder about the people who held the things and created that energy?
We ate a pizza lunch in our conference room today. And besides having to get up and walk out because new mommy coworker was complaining about what a chore it is for her to pump breastmilk for her beautiful six month old baby boy, there was something notable that happened. Maybe it just happened in my mind. Our conference room has been used the past couple of weeks to prepare for a big murder trial here in our county. Ralph Clark, involved in a rather strange "church," killed his estranged wife after she got custody of their children and announced her intention to move out of state. (I can talk about this because word is that the Defendant entered into a plea agreement this afternoon.) Trial preparation naturally included a review of the evidence to be admitted at trial (scheduled for next Wednesday).
There I sat, eating my pizza next to a box that contained the rifle a man used to beat his wife to death...next to the envelopes and bags of her clothing, her eyeglasses, and other bits and pieces of her broken life...all presumably spattered with her blood, though not visible through the chain-of-custody packaging that is used. We sat there talking about work and our lives (eventually devolving into what seems to be an inevitable conversation about babies...which necessitated my quick departure from the room).
It seemed wrong to me.
Carolyn Clark isn't here anymore. She's dead. And there sits the evidence to prove who killed her...next to me as I eat my lunch. I wonder about her family...Her thirteen children...Her husband. And I felt this connection by sitting next to these "things" that I couldn't shake. I could feel his rage and her fear wrapped up in brown paper wrapping and marked with biohazard labels.
When Alex died I had an urge to give away certain things...to sell others...to purge myself of some things while holding fast to others. Right this moment, as I digest my lunch, I wonder if my subconscious wasn't telling me something. I wonder if things don't hold onto their energy and it takes being stripped of all our pretense and facade to really feel it and accept it for what it is.
There are a few more items I think I'm going to have to get rid of. A certain pair of pants...a ring I wore the day I found out...they both have a "weird feeling" about them. I've been debating what to do with them for a while. But lunch has definitely convinced me to err on the side of caution. I don't need that kind of energy around me now.