Izzy is really into mint chocolate. Anything mint chocolate. “Mom, I really love it. I would even try mint chicken” and then a memory came back “You know, a long time ago, I made Dada mint chicken and it was terrible. He couldn’t eat it, even though he tried. I ended up throwing the rest away.” We laughed about it.
That awful dinner I cooked. The look on his face. So funny. The memory that came back so strongly. Where do we store them? Can I get more of those forgotten times? How? What happens to them? Where does it all go? When I die-where does that memory go? Where does that time go? A few weeks ago, on a social media site, there were pictures of mothers breastfeeding their babies through the ages. I looked at each one. Photos of mothers watching their babies and babies beaming back at them. Each had their own story, their own love. Where is it now? What happens to it? Of course, because I am still here, my love and memories of John live on, of course that love continues for the families in those pictures but what about when we die? Where do those feelings, experiences and time go?