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This pizza just broke my heart


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Hi there. It's been a pretty long time since I last posted, but I'm having a hard time tonight so I thought I might vent here a little. Coming up on the year mark, it seems like I'm having a harder time remembering the day to day stuff with her. However, I generally think back on our memories in a "happy" way. That's pretty normal, I know. It stresses me out like crazy though, because I feel like I'm the remember-er, you know? There's so much stuff that, once it's gone from me it's gone forever. No disrespect to her family and friends and all that, but they don't know which one of our blankets was her favorite for playing video games. They don't know which type of frozen pot pie she liked (don't get the kind with the mushrooms). That kind of stuff was is mine to remember. God, I just want to feel like I'm in the same room with her again.

 

Every once in a while there will be that one little thing. That jolt that will (unexpectedly) bring it all back with it's vivid colors and smells and smiles. (Her smile was like nothing you've ever seen --ask anyone). Today that jolt came in the form of pepperoni pizza that a friend brought over. Pepperoni pizza.... with stuffed crust... how did I forget? It was more than her favorite. It was her happy food. Her comfort when the anxiety hit. Our late night adventure to the one place that would serve it 24 hours. We spent so many nights like that... how have I not thought of it once?

 

It can't be said enough: this sucks.

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Yes, we are the ones who have all that knowledge left locked up in our heads and hearts.  I have also found it difficult to realize we are the only ones who truly know and to some extent care.

 

Revel in those memories when they come to you if you can, maybe even write them down, it may help you to retain them longer.

 

Yes this does suck...

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Hi Bromans,

this is something I struggled a lot with in the second year (still do at almost 2 and a half). The forgetting of things has been really hard and terrifying as it feels like loosing little pieces of them. We are the keepers, as I like to think of it, of all the memories. Even his childhood memories I feel like I am the only keeper of now. I have written many things down and continue to do so as they come to me. At some point I had to tell myself that they are not gone, that I have not forgotten, its just that its locked in some part of my brain that I can not access at this time, but there will be moments when I have crystal clarity and it comes back. It is another part of this lose that is very hard to manage. It is just another thing that we learn to accept with time. Hugs to you.

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I find this hits me the hardest when I am thinking about memories about the kids.  It makes me sad when I try to remember something about the day the kids were born or things that happened when they were little, and I realize he was the only other person who would know the answer to these things. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

I meant to write as soon as I read this.  The words didn't come, though the sense of resonance and solidarity certainly did, in abundance. 

 

To be the keeper of memories, to be the loser of memories... it's lonely and high pressure.  I immediately tried to write them all, filling numerous little journals, but even then, I knew I was missing/losing some.  And all that is most important goes with them.  One of my most favorite memories of us didn't resurface for me until more than a year after he died, and when I remembered it I could not understand how I ever could have forgotten it. 

 

At nearly seven years out now, I can only offer this comfort/hope: I no longer feel emotionally tortured or in pain.  My sadness (including the sadness over lost memories) has morphed into a peaceful one, one I can live with peacefully.  I wish that you for you too one day. 

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