I just do not remember those times or those experiences or sometimes those conversations.
Last night I was at my friends Deb and Sean's house.
We were watching their wedding video back from November.
I can vividly remember how their wedding made me feel.
But when I saw myself in the video it was odd.
It was almost like this strange out of body experience.
It looks like me.
I remember wearing that dress.
I remember going to the wedding.
But I do not remember doing things I did at the wedding.
I also was talking about the funeral for some reason and I started thinking about that week.
Again, I remember the way I felt.
I remember the gut wrenching and just absolute loss.
But I can not remember specific people being there.
I can connect people to being there.
Like Stacy and Kendra must have been there because they came to the reception at the house.
The even weirder part of not remembering people is that I hugged most people twice.
Once when they came in and once as they left.
But people will tell me they were there and I just do not remember it.
And I cannot really remember what songs were sung or what verses were read.
I vaguely remember picking them out but what we actually picked...
Then being at the funeral home.
I know who was with me because I have pieced it together but I do not really remember.
The even weirder part is I do not really remember several things back in August before the accident.
Like we went to this grocery store closing.
We bought lots of taco seasoning (it can be very handy for cooking).
I forgot about it for months.
I even bought more.
And when I brought it home, I was confused about the weird brand and the number of packets.
It is such a weird feeling.
Almost another level of not being able to control things.
I am not sure if I like it...
But there are lots of things I do not like about the last few months...
1 comment:
Going thru crappy things and then later you think about the time after is kinda mind boggling.... I have put things away and found out I already had that. about 5 of them...
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