I remember my first plane trip…my first visit to San Francisco…my baby sister in her carrier, trying to flip upside down.
I remember my first funeral, and a woman singing Amazing Grace.
…
I remember thinking one of the crazier boys was shaking the trees, and realizing that it was my first earthquake.
I remember going with a friend to my favorite house in the world to see if she remembered everything as well as I did.
I remember staring up at the stars and wondering about the future.
I remember not going up to the castle and wandering by myself and making up stories.
I don’t want to do this today. for all that I worry about not being able to remember things, and for all my journal writing, I really do remember quite a lot, and much of it is sad, and some of it makes me feel too much the fool. I want to stop remembering, and to start living again.
that said, Behind the Wheel just came on in my music rotation, and that song always has a touch of the bittersweet for me, because of memory. (I’d be really happy to find out that Greyson reads this thing, but I doubt it.)