For those of us of the genealogical mindset, we seek slight glimpses of ancestral life in their archived documents, their location, time in history, and even hope for finding mentions in newspapers, even if less than good.

More desired are personal letters or diaries, but I suspect few of us are lucky enough to possess such things.

Now, I have some homework for you. As you read May Sarton’s poem A Light Left On, below, think what “inside weather” you might document and leave for your loved ones to recall you by, to help understand the space you live in, physical, spiritual, and waiting for your return…

A Light Left On

In the evening we came back
Into our yellow room,
For a moment taken aback
To find the light left on,
Falling on silent flowers,
Table, book, empty chair
While we had gone elsewhere,
Had been away for hours.

When we came home together
We found the inside weather.
All of our love unended
The quiet light demanded,
And we gave, in a look
At yellow walls and open book.
The deepest world we share
And do not talk about
But have to have, was there,
And by that light found out.

Poem: “A Light Left On,” by May Sarton from May Sarton Collected Poems 1930-1993 (W.W. Norton).