"The Ether of Memory" by Lubrina Burton
– not a when but a where
Seeking that time when adulthood was superimposed onto adolescence.
Lubrina Burton lives in Lexington, Kentucky with her husband and pug dog. She earned both her Psychology degree and post-baccalaureate certificate in Paralegal Science from Eastern Kentucky University. She is an alumnus of the Carnegie Center in Lexington, where she discovered a network of friends and fellow writers. Her work is featured in The Personal Story Publishing Project anthologies, That Southern Thing and Trouble. She is currently writing her memoir about maturing into young adulthood as an enlisted woman in the pre-9/11 U.S. Army.
Author’s Talk
Lubrina Burton
In the past I tried writing about the monster in my closet, that little green trunk stuffed with things like pictures, ticket stubs, foreign Army berets, even a whistle I picked up while stationed in Europe. The little chest is filled with mostly “junk,” but over the years those items have become a record of my experience. Trapped inside are the textures, sounds, and even odors from that time. Opening it instantly transports me back to when I was a soldier, something I am not always eager to re-experience.
The story never came together until after the call for submissions for “Curious Stuff,” shortly after I learned about the death of my Army buddy. When another friend from the service messaged to tell me about his passing, I hauled the trunk from the back of the closet into the middle of the floor. Holding my breath, I opened the lid. Somewhere was a photo of my comrades and me hanging out after a long day at work. I wanted to know what those soldiers’ faces could tell me. I wanted to read the past and predict the future. Mostly, though, I wanted to see my friends again.
As I sifted through the items of the trunk, I let myself breathe and remember. Instead of dissolving into tears when I held each artifact, I smiled. Sitting among the “treasure,” I grabbed my notebook and wrote a rough draft. I never found the picture, but the stories were all still there. For years, I wanted to erase those memories. Now I hope that by writing about them, they will live on. — Lubrina Burton
