Stuff

And we carry it forward,

All the hurt, the pain, the anger

Instead of remembering

The elation, the butterflies, the laughter.

Memories of Misery not Mirth

AJG 22/05/2014

Sadness over happiness every time.

But why?

When memories are made, they do not discriminate

We remember all of it.

So why do we look to what was bad, rather than what was good?

I will not let that be me. I can recall the hurt, the sorrow, the betrayal. But I will not have that as the basis of my memories. No, they are of sunshine and laughter, coming of age and a whole lot of firsts.

Instead of my mother the stroke victim, it’s my mother; the vibrant, frustrating, stubborn, silly confidante that I remember.  That she ALWAYS gave me affection. That it’s no great shame she can’t remember how to say my name, because she never said it much pre-stroke – I was always a ‘lovie’ or some such endearment. My mother was so opinionated, so obstinate, so much her own confident person, she was also amazing. She is NOT the woman she is now. And I guess that upsets me purely because when people meet her now, they’re not meeting MEG, they’re not really meeting her.

Other things too – I carry the happiness not the misery.  I refuse point blank to be miserable anymore, it’s not conducive to my health, my mental stability, my outlook and most importantly, my future.

I found a book last night, writing, tons of it, poetry and stories and just so much emotion. But it’s good, I read it and it’s really good. Which means, she says self depreciatively, I must be good? Ha, and that’s awkward to write.