I have a bad memory. I always have a hard time remembering someone's face. I'm bad at remembering names almost all of the time. I sometimes can't recall if I've seen a movie before. Minor everyday responsibilities often escape me. But nothing boggles my mind more than when I try to think back before kids. I know I lived before then, so there has to be something that happened. I was 32 when they were born, there was definitely life before 32. The question is, who's? And was it any good?
I guess to ask myself if my life was any good before 32 would kind of be an insult to those who were a part of my life before 32. I know that my life was good, great even. I have an amazing family. One that you might not claim as your own in front of a crowd, but behind closed doors, they're your closest allies because you realize you're crazy just like them. I love my crazy amazing family. And my dearest friends from long ago have remained that way to this day. Some have made it past the 15 year mark and one has been precious enough to stand by me for over 27 years.
And while I couldn't imagine my life without all these amazing crazy precious people, at the same time, it is hard for me to remember specific events or interactions I had with them over those 32 years. I barely remember high school. If you add together all 6 years I attended college, I probably remember a combined total of 9 solid days. And I promise you, forgetting was not caused by anything you may be imagining. Hell, if I had done any of those things you are imagining, I might have something to remember.
But it's funny. I know I have a hard time recollecting childhood memories, but I know my childhood was good. I couldn't tell you the names of any of my high school teachers, but they did something right because I graduated with great grades. And I have no idea what kind of elective classes I took in college, but I earned a degree in sociology and they don't just give those things out to anybody.
I don't want the next 20 years of my boys' lives to go by and I'm writing about how I barely remember most of their childhood. I want to soak in as much as I can and maintain a memory database of all things "them" for easy retrieval when I need them most. I cannot allow myself to let their lives flash before me and then slip away into some memory graveyard like I have my own childhood. Digging becomes much harder once they're buried.
The point of all this is that I'm totally excited about this project. It gives me a chance to spend a whole year journaling every single day and commemorating it with a photo. Maybe that photo will help me remember how I felt more than the words I wrote.
25 of 365: Amazing night of giggle wrestling, hiccup laughter, goofy pictures, and silly videos with my favorite men.
Good Night All!
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