(no subject)
one day, I will forget.
I will forget where I am, forget the faces around me
I will forget those I love, forgetting friends, siblings, parents
and possibly, forgetting me.
I won't remember the hardships, though I don't remember many of those now. I won't remember standing in lines, delayed flights, terrible meals or lost luggage. I also won't remember the adventures, playing with tigers, lions and cheetahs in south Africa, dinning at a Buddhist temple in China, or scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. I will forget the streets of London, the canals of Venice, the air of Loch Lomond. All the kind strangers I have met around the world, will once again be strangers.
I will look at pictures, and not recognize the people, places or things I see. Someone will tell me this photo I took somewhere exciting, and that photo is my wife, my child. I will blink, and if I am lucky, I won't remember what they just told me before the fear that I was forgetting myself kicked in, again. I am not sure yet if I will be happy to remember something or more frustrated that I managed to forget everything else.
I will forget what I just read in the above paragraph, or if I read the above paragraph, or if it was the paragraph before that I don't remember. As I start loosing people in my life, my mind will erase everything else of them that remained. I will forget they are no longer around, and possible forgetting they ever were.
Not everything will be lost. Little bits of information will cling to me. I will call my nurses by the wrong name, no matter how many times the correct me. I will call them by the names of friends that meant something to me, but I won't remember why. On "good days" I won't remember that I have forgotten. And on the bad, I fear how afraid I will be.
I will forget where I am, forget the faces around me
I will forget those I love, forgetting friends, siblings, parents
and possibly, forgetting me.
I won't remember the hardships, though I don't remember many of those now. I won't remember standing in lines, delayed flights, terrible meals or lost luggage. I also won't remember the adventures, playing with tigers, lions and cheetahs in south Africa, dinning at a Buddhist temple in China, or scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. I will forget the streets of London, the canals of Venice, the air of Loch Lomond. All the kind strangers I have met around the world, will once again be strangers.
I will look at pictures, and not recognize the people, places or things I see. Someone will tell me this photo I took somewhere exciting, and that photo is my wife, my child. I will blink, and if I am lucky, I won't remember what they just told me before the fear that I was forgetting myself kicked in, again. I am not sure yet if I will be happy to remember something or more frustrated that I managed to forget everything else.
I will forget what I just read in the above paragraph, or if I read the above paragraph, or if it was the paragraph before that I don't remember. As I start loosing people in my life, my mind will erase everything else of them that remained. I will forget they are no longer around, and possible forgetting they ever were.
Not everything will be lost. Little bits of information will cling to me. I will call my nurses by the wrong name, no matter how many times the correct me. I will call them by the names of friends that meant something to me, but I won't remember why. On "good days" I won't remember that I have forgotten. And on the bad, I fear how afraid I will be.