I saw a gorgeous man at the café. He might have been 23. I forgot I was 66 years old.
I also forgot I was a lesbian.
Oh, and that I was married.
I forgot when I run, my back can hurt for days, and sometimes my hips give in. In my heart, I am skipping and running with the wind, the sky, the song.
I forgot how much my heart was holding, even before I went to work in the hospital every day. I never forgot my beloved was being treated for a terminal illness. I forgot to cry about the toll it took on my spirit, until I wasn’t holding the hands and comforting patients anymore.
I forgot I will need my beautiful baby as I age, to feed and dress me.
I forgot how much I crave the quiet and endless time without interruptions.
I forgot how much I miss you when I am alone.
I forgot to breathe. It might lead to crying, and then lead to wailing, which could lead to despair.
I forgot I can handle despair.
I forgot to listen to the trees and the plants. I forgot their language.
I forgot a longer life means I might start to forget; turning off the stove, the names of people we know, and I can’t remember what else.
I forgot my password to my password file.
I forgot I have grey hair and my skin hangs. I feel like I am 20. Ok, maybe 35.
I forgot I never really had that boyfriend I always knew I would marry.
I forgot the name of my hamster and turtle I loved as a child.
I forgot how to live without parents.
I forgot to breathe.
I totally feel this word for word….thank you
Carol Rothman says
Dan Fendel says
This is exquisite, Chaya.
Ann Brown says
Diana Feiger says
Very moving. And inspiring. Thank you
Ah, I feel this one. Lovely. Thank you.
Christine Reimers says
Beautiful poignant reflection on life and how hard it is to BE— breathe— in each moment with all our memories all around🙏