Memories...

I’m aware that I’ve done this a lot, and by “this” I mean write about my relationship with Chris, and I understand if you don’t want to read more of it, but to be honest it’s one of the most important things to have happened in my life, what I’m trying to find my way to write here is that I’d like to write about big things that happen in our lives (well probably more specifically, my life) and how we remember them

It’s interesting to me, the way I remember things, because for the most part, I don’t remember the “big events” of my life, I remember small details, some from my everyday life, some from unusual events.

I thought of this because I was talking to my mom a couple of days ago (no wild things I talk to my mom pretty much every day, but…)

We talked about when my mom was in her chemo-therapy-treatment, I was six when it started. I remember tiny things like my sister trying to be all motherly, and my four year-old brother crying because he didn’t know what was going on, and I remember when we gave her one of those bubble-gum “tattoos” to put on her bald head (which she did). But what I remember most clearly is going to the hospital with my mom, I remember sitting in the car on the way there talking about my mother being ill, I remember my mom walking out of a sort of changing room wearing a white robe, I remember feeling lost and alone because she had to leave and I couldn’t join her, I remember the kind nurse who took my hand after my mother had left, and took care of me while she was away. But the clearest memories are not of the times when I had strong emotions; the clearest memory is driving and looking at the flowers at the side of the road, and my mom saying how pretty she thinks they were. It’s the little things that are the most important.

In the same way if I think of the times I’ve spend with Chris (I’m here thinking of spending time as actually being in the same country), of course I remember all our hellos and goodbyes, because of all the emotions hammering in my head in those moments. But my clearest memories are of the afternoons when he was visiting me when we’d nap, well mostly Chris would nap and I’d lie in his arms listening to him breathe. Another clear memory is about an evening where we went out on a “fancy date” but what I remember is not what we talked about or what he was wearing, it’s the chocolate cake-thingy we had for dessert; because it was so delicious that we couldn’t stop talking about it. And it’s a very clear memory because I kinda feel like that about our relationship as well, in a way it’s so good that I can’t stop talking about it, and I know I often end up saying the same things, but it’s just how my brain works all flooped up “on love”.

But, all in all it’s the small things that matter, I know that’s a rather cliché thing to say, but I think it’s true. Once again it’s my mom who made me think of it because I asked her why she was talking pictures of normal every day things and situations, and she answered something along the lines of:

“There might be more exciting things in life than a Sunday afternoon, but there’s a lot more Sunday afternoons in life then there’s crazy adventures, and when I grow old, it’s those I want to remember, I want to remember the every day things, and then I’m sure others will tell me about the crazy adventures.”