The other day I was eavesdropping on a couple next to me (don’t act like you don’t do it). The lady sat down next to her husband and was reminding him to take his medication, asking him if he remembered to pack Kleenex, and telling him about the long list of to-do’s she has waiting for him back at home. He kept saying, “I won’t forget, I won’t forget, I won’t forget.” And that got me thinking about all the little things I don’t want to forget, the things that are so small, yet so important to me that I couldn’t stand not remembering. Not menial things, but things that from day-to-day, we all tend to forget about because they’re overshadowed by paying the bills, memorizing work presentations, and buying Christmas gifts (still have to do that…)
I want to remember all the little things in my every day.
To listen. Be curious. Remember birthdays (without an app). Remember things I’ve read, or movies I’ve seen again and again.
To memorize the pattern of freckles on his chest. Memorize poems. Memorize prayers.
To be spontaneous. Cheerful. Positive. Ambitious.
Be funny. Be happy. Be graceful.
I want to remember memories and special moments that helped carve me into who I am.
To remember how frigid the river felt on my toes. The feeling of sunshine on my shoulders and cheeks. The names of mountains and backcountry trails.
To remember the color of the towels in the bathroom. The price of ice cream at the corner store down the street.
To be adventurous and daring. To do things because I want to do them, not just because everyone else is.
To remember the sting on my knees after falling off my bike again and again and again.
To remember things we ate, special camping foods and birthday foods and “just because” restaurant outings.
To be honest and sure. To take photos and write everything down.
I want to remember who I am and where I came from, no matter where I am in life now.
To remember your hometown streets. The memories made there. The nicknames. The sunburns.
To remember to call and to write.
Remember the last time I saw you, the words we shared, the glances, the tears.
Remember the smell of lilies and gardenias. Remember to say “thank you.”
Remember to keep going, going, going.