Your Story Matters

I've often wondered what people will say of me once I'm gone. What memories they will hold on to. Do you ever wonder that?

We are on this earth for such a short time. Whether we get  1 yr. or 100, in the scheme of things, its just a dot of time.

Will my boys remember my laugh? Will they remember me knitting? What will they hold dear? What pictures will they cherish?  I think about Manuel, far from me in Texas. What will his memories be? Will it be our disagreements? Our arguments? Will he remember I love him, even though we do fight? Is there something I can do now to change what he remembers?

If I go before Fonzy, what will he miss most about me? Will he see a tree in Fall, with the vibrant oranges, reds and yellows, and remember how much I love Fall. Sunsets, and clouds. Will he miss putting his hand under me while we sleep? The love we make, the fights we have, the life we live?

I think about this often. Maybe it's because I find myself forgetting....forgetting things about my Mom....forgetting things about Samuel. I want to hold onto those memories so tightly, but no matter how tight I hold on, they slip through my clenched hands...and I hate it.

Their stories mattered. My story matters. Our stories matter. And I don't want to forget them.