The prompt for today’s #dearjune is not an easy one for me. I thought about making light of it, joking about how I have a memory like a sieve, haha. (I do. Not so haha, but there it is. Some people have good brains, mine’s a little hole-y.) But I couldn’t do it and write something truthful, and, if I am going to put words to paper for posterity (or as long as computer memory lasts) I choose to always write my truth. I get that it might not be someone else’s – I know the story about the elephant and the blind men – but it’s mine, and that is all I can write.
So of course, the words “memory” and “forgetting” always have to do with W. Even when I don’t want them to.
Wait, what? What does that mean, “When I don’t want them to”? That sounds callous, even to my own ears. But just now, after coming off a March that hit me (unexpectedly) like a Mack truck, I’m emotionally fatigued. It’s not that I don’t want to think about him, it’s just that…I guess I want some distance, just now. I’d have thought four years was enough distance, but apparently it can still fuck me up, all out of the blue, and this year it did. But I’m in recovery now, and I just want a little peace.
God, just saying that fills me with guilt. Do I *want* to forget? No, not at all. There are times when I go days without thinking about him now, and then when I realize this, I feel this hitch in my chest. Am I forgetting him?? That whole thing about having a poor memory comes up to bite me in the ass, and I wonder: am I? Will I, someday? Please, no. Oh, I am making new memories, living and sharing wonderful stories about the loves in my life, my beautiful children, places I’ve visited and dreams that have come true, about the many positive things I have learned about myself and the world around me in W’s absence. But I don’t want those memories to replace him. And I fear that someday, they will. But I can’t stop living; nor would he want me to.
So here we are.