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The fact that memories fade over time feels cruel to me. When all we have left of our loved ones are the memories we made together, why must we also be robbed of those?

No longer can I close my eyes and see Zev at whatever age I choose, in whatever setting, during any circumstance… the colors are not full or vibrant, the sounds are muted, and the emotions diminished.

I suppose this is nature’s way of ensuring our survival; we the broken, the lost and the grieving. But in my opinion, it is a detriment, not a gift. I miss the days when I could recall her at will; sometimes when I least expected it I was thrown into a memory; seeing and hearing and feeling all as it was then, as if I had been transported back in time. Torturous at times, yes. Yet sweet and joyous as well.

Now all I have are photographs and dim memories which take such great effort to recall in detail; and often I discover the small bits have simply vanished. Without my letting them go, not a conscious decision involved.

I cannot put to words the countless times I’ve screamed at the universe for cheating me so. I feel like a child stomping my feet and yelling “it isn’t fair!”

How are we to have any remaining solace, when the little that we are left clinging to — after our young ones are abruptly torn from us — we no longer have to carry us through the rest of our days in this world?


One Comment

  1. Totally cried reading this and now I need to hug you. ♥♥♥

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