I’m trying to use as many outlets as possible to remember things. I guess I have a fear, because I seem to forget EVERYTHING, but it’s scary to forget.
I’m carrying a notebook. I’m writing things down. I’m taking pictures. I’m drawing pictures.
But it’s too late now, because the thing I want to remember most I’ve already started to forget….I wasn’t writing it down, I wasn’t taking pictures, and I’ll soon lose almost all of it. I don’t want to be left with just a few memories of the last 13 years of my life. Now I wish that we would’ve stayed longer at the Sunday afternoon lunches that we were so desperate to escape.
It’s amazing to me that I can be generous with everything else in my life, but not my time. I love to give, but the minute it interferes with my time I’m so very hesitant. I guess that’s something I need to work on.
I hate the feeling of scrambling. Of the last minute rush. I can’t do anything now. I can’t take pictures, this is not what I want to remember. I want to remember the birds, and the trees in his garden, him yelling at my mom, his cooking advice. I want to remember him and Matt together. I want to remember the lawnmower. I want to remember his beard from years ago.
It horrible to say goodbye over and over again. It’s also horrible to not say goodbye. I really can’t say which is worse. And I feel so alone. I know there are so many of my dear dear friends that are around me to support me and help me through this, but the one person that would really understand is so far away. I wouldn’t feel alone if he was here.
And my poor mother. The thought of losing two people that I loved makes me sick. I feel terrible for her. How is she ever going to get over this?