It’s such a small thing, forgetfulness. Such a tiny moment of mental lapse, barely a blip on the Radar of Grand Schemes. It’s so small a thing, and yet when it passes the memories that come roaring in to fill the space are torrential and crushing.
I had a small lapse in memory today. I started a new job and for a split second I forgot that I couldn’t celebrate it with my husband. Just a fraction of a second – not even a full tick of the clock. But then I remembered and I thought I would drown in the grief. The memory of all the first days on the job I’ve celebrated with him in the past led the charge, followed closely by all the first times of anything we’ve shared. On hot on the heels of that came all the firsts that will pass without his smile and congratulations in the future. The first Thanksgiving, that will be next month. The first birthday to go by without a fond kiss – also next month. The first time I really need a hug from the only person I’ve counted on to give them to me over the last 10 years. That was today.
Such a small thing to forget. Such a small thing. Like a bullet, this small thing is.