A few weeks ago I sat in what was once the home of my father-in-law who had recently passed away. I was surrounded by my husband, his siblings and our niece. We were going through boxes, unearthing memories of not only my father-in-law’s life but his mother’s as well (who had also once lived there). At some point I looked up and expected the smiling, laughing face of my father-in-law to come zooming around the corner, racing his electric wheelchair. It was a poignant moment as many have been over the course of coping with his passing.

Looking through pictures of his life was bittersweet in a way I hadn’t really thought about in a while. I was able to see pictures of my husband and siblings as little children. Easily seeing what my potential children could look like. But looking at these pictures and seeing the memories come alive was sad because I don’t have many memories.

I have the worst memory of anyone I’ve ever met. Part of it is a side effect of depression and the other part I think is just that my brain doesn’t store memories in the same way. I can remember how I felt and the emotions of a time but I may have no specific memory of that time. For example in eighth grade I had a Halloween party, my first boy/girl party. I remember feeling anxious that it go well, I remember having a fantastic time. But I couldn’t tell you what I was dressed up as or who even attended. If you were to put a picture of that party in front of me I would smile as if it triggered something but I wouldn’t have any memory of that picture being taken.

This lack of remembering events have led to a few arguments in my lifetime. Times when people (usually my husband) will reference something we did many months ago or even a year ago. I will have no memory of it, so much so that I’m convinced it never happened. We argue, evidence is produced and I realize once again how annoying it is to not remember events. I have learned to just go with it when he says that we did something, the highlight of that is that his memory is the complete opposite of mine. He can remember so many things, so many minute details from so long ago that when he recalls a memory you can almost see it being reenacted behind his beautiful blue eyes.

This weekend is our wedding anniversary – four years. I look back to our wedding day and am thankful for the amazing grace that I can remember that quiet but exceptional moment. Standing outside our apartment building in the gazebo. The bright pink cherry blossoms. The small older woman who married us and even took pictures of us under the blossom heavy trees. The hitch in my voice as I repeated after her. The smile on his face when he repeated after her. I vaguely remember making the phone calls afterwards and I’m pretty sure we went to dinner afterwards as well. But I’m okay with not remembering those things. I’m overjoyed with remembering the exact moment we sealed our lives together with a kiss.

Twenty minutes after our I do's! :)

Twenty minutes after our I do’s! 🙂

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