Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.
Only five minutes.
And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.
Today, her topic choice is "On forgetting…"
So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.
Ready? Set. Go.
::
My friend Susie and I joke all the time that she has me as a friend so I can help her remember her life.
She has a horrible memory. I have a memory that is ridiculous. I seem to remember the dumbest, most insignificant things in vivid detail. There are times I can tell you not only that we had the conversation, but exactly where I was when she told me the story and what we were both wearing when she said it.
So I have appointed myself her memory keeper. I remind her of things about her kids, stories of us in college, anything that maybe has slipped her mind. And it's fun relaying the stories back to her because she gets tickled about the events all over again, like it's happening again for the first time.
I love that about us.
And even though my memory is good, the more tired I get and the more medication I am on, the more I worry that I'll forget the little things. The important things. Stories about how we grew up, stories about my friends, little details about my nieces and nephews… the things that matter. That's one of the reasons I love to blog, because this is the place I've written down the parts that matter.
It's where I've written my heart so no matter what happens to me and my life from here on out, I am on these pages. Anyone who has ever wanted to really know me can simply come here and see my heart. They'll know how I love, how much I love, who I love and in Who I believe.
I like to imagine that someday, if their memories are as bad as their mom's, Susie's boys will tell their kids about me and pull out these pages and share my story.
It's nice how that turned out. In my attempt to make sure I never forget, I've also ensured that I won't be forgotten.
It's like a labor of love come full circle.