These memories will stay with me
I was cleaning up the kitchen while making dinner and listening to a song by Hollow Coves. The line that kept sticking out to me was, “these memories will stay with me.” I’ll be honest my eyes started to fill with tears and for anyone that knows me, they know this really isn’t that surprising. Songs have always made me cry. So have movies. Or when I’m happy, sad, frustrated, or mad—basically, I’m a crier! I’ve always been like this. I hated watching The Lion King when I was little because I would be so completely devastated when Mufasa died or Bambi with his mom in the forest!? Forget about it! My mom probably thought it was best for those VHS’s to stay hidden. Did I just mention a VHS? …Yes, I am definitely aging myself in this one! Anyways, I digress. That line in the song made me tear up because I have an irrational fear of forgetting everything and losing every memory that I have ever held dear. To be honest, it isn’t really irrational, but the number of times it crosses my mind probably is. My grandpa was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease shortly after I graduated college. He was 68 years old. As I approach each birthday I am filled with gratitude for another year, but also a little fear because the older I get the younger age 68 seems.
The fear of forgetting what it feels like to grip Tucker’s little fingers crossing the street, hand in hand. Memories of Ella tilting her head with a sly smile when she is feeling shy or even a little ornery, being erased—absolutely terrifying. Tucker dancing with me in the kitchen. Ella with her head cradled on my shoulder making noises until I hum—then staying blissfully silent until I’m through with the song.
“These memories will stay with me…”
With every part of my being, I hope the words in the song ring true for me. I hope these memories will stay with me. However, I know that I am not guaranteed a long life with a sound mind. I’m not even guaranteed tomorrow. My grandpa was a vibrant, healthy 68-year-old who just celebrated his retirement and had golf and trips with grandma in his future. But what I can guarantee, and promise is to love them enough now so they can’t forget. That they will remember for the both of us. With every brush of my hand against their cheek or gentle sweep of my finger down the bridge of their nose, I hope they feel it. I hope they feel my love radiate through their bones. So much so that even if we all would forget the fun times we’ve had together or memories we’ve yet to make; they will remember my love! To steal a line from the finale of “This is Us” (made by Randall if you’re familiar with the show), “Mom was magic.” I hope to them that my love is and continues to be pure magic because that’s what their love is to me.
So, read the story one more time. Go with them when they ask you to. Hug them tight every chance you get. Because there will be a day when they stop asking, stop holding your hand to cross the street, stop snuggling as close as they can for the latest library book story time. I hope and pray that I won’t ever forget, but I have faith that at least they will remember.
What memories do you hope will stay with you forever? Or what memories do you have from childhood that are near and dear to you that you’ll never forget? Please share in the comments below. Until next week, happy reading.
