Memory is a weird thing. Ask Simon and he’ll tell you I have a horrible memory. I joke that I need to ask him his name all the time, because half of what he remembers, I don’t.
But on the other side, I have some very clear memories. And I find that a lot of things I remember clearly, make me smile.
One is the memory of a time my brother, my niece and myself went out to dinner. I don’t remember where my sister-in-law was, but she wasn’t with us. We were walking down the sidewalk, after dinner, and my brother asked my niece, who must have been about 2 or 3, so not really good with the talking yet, who was being carried by him, if she wanted anything for dessert. She grabbed his cheeks with her hands and turned his head so he was looking at her and stuck out her tongue like she was licking an ice cream. Yeah, she wanted something for dessert!
The memory of the sight of her little hands on her daddy’s big face is so precious to me. Makes me smile every time I think of it.
Going back further was the day she was born. I was there, at first in the room and then they took my sister-in-law in for an emergency c-section so I was kicked out. The first time I saw my girl (and she’s been my girl her whole life) she was yelling her head off being held up to the window of the nursery by her head and heels by a nurse while my brother beamed beside her. Also makes me smile.
Or the first time I saw her sister, who is also my girl, although I moved to Belfast not long after she was born. That time I wasn’t at the hospital. I was in a bad place mentally at that point and didn’t really feel like I could handle it, so I didn’t go. I met my brother and sister-in-law at their house the day they brought her home. I had a key so I was already there when they pulled up. And I went back to the garage entrance to say hi and there was a tiny little human in the back hall in her car seat, fast asleep. I took her out of her car seat and introduced myself.
There are so many more that are bright and sharp in my mind, like the first time I saw Simon in person, at San Francisco International Airport. Our first kiss, also at the airport. And other, more, shall we say, intimate moments. No, those weren’t at the airport, you hussy!
So I might not always remember your name. But I remember the important stuff. And I think that’s all that really matters.