I was sitting here, reminiscing about stuff Himself and I did together, trips made, moves, kids growing up, all that. 30 years of memories, 28-1/2 years of marriage. It occurred to me that 1/2 of those are gone. There is a lot of stuff he and I did that no one else did.
We made a trip to Manhattan in 2002. So much we did that I don’t have anyone to say “Remember the bagels/buskers/museums/that cheese plate at the Greek restaurant?” I can look at the pictures or show them and to the people looking at them they’re just pictures. They don’t remember the smells or sounds, what happened before or after. Who can I share the memories with?
There is a cabin in the North Georgia mountains, we went there a few times. It was quiet and lovely and secluded. Who do I talk to about those trips? About the way it started snowing as soon as we got there, how long it took to figure out how to turn off the hot tub, speculating about the source of the weird stain on the chair (that we never sat in).
The first place we lived in after marrying, a cute little apartment, then the house after he graduated with the self-flushing toilet and the cracks in the wall you can see through and the mismatched carpet. #1 was 8 months old when we left there, so he was too young to remember it. There isn’t anyone to talk to about that, to remember the little garden in the back yard, the ducks we got that followed the letter of the rental place pet law (fish and birds only), but not the spirit. No one else remembers what it was like having ducks that refused to swim or having only a piece of venison and a strip of bacon left in the fridge and it was 2 days until payday, or the wonder and delight of praying for food and finding a bag of garden vegetables on the front porch, and never knowing who put them there.
There isn’t anyone left to talk about this stuff with. Half the memories are gone. His perceptions aren’t here to share. I hadn’t really thought about that until just now. It’s sad, really, to have lost all that.
I guess now I get to make memories with the kids and grandkids. I hate that I won’t have Himself there making them with me.