What am I scared of forgetting?

I wrote down this question a while ago, before I became so familiar with bereavement. I find myself wanting to use the word bereavement more than I expected. When looking for resources for myself I found that often times grief found things that included breakups and such which can be helpful but weren’t what I was looking for. Anyway, when I found the question again it struck me even more so than the first time.

Last year I got rid of my childhood diaries. It was an impulsive moment but also an odd relief. The memories I wanted to keep were already with me. I’m not going to have children who can giggle about my old diaries. In all the years I had them I never looked back at them. Maybe someday I’ll regret it but I feel like my diaries and journals are mostly for me in the moment. I say that having already gone back to read my journal from when I first met Anthony.

I’m scared of forgetting the little jokes between us “one more”. Though I plan to get a tattoo of /skish (a Saga comic reference). I don’t think I could forget though.

I’m scared of forgetting the sound of his voice, the crinkle eyed smiles, the laugh, the hugs. I’ve got good photos and bad photos, podcast episodes, and friends who I can remember with. I’ve also got a lot of photos of these two funny kitties.

I’m scared of forgetting the wisdom. I’ve saved snippets of conversation and I’m trying to back up more.

I think at a certain point forgetting is inevitable. I’m sure there are many things I’ve forgotten from the past 35 years. Sometimes I remember things out of no where from years ago. Brains are strange sometimes. I’m afraid of forgetting things but all I can do is enjoy the things I do remember.

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