Things to (un)remember

I'm not forgetting anything.  I'm trying not to obsess over anything.  But it really bothers me how much I can almost remember.

I almost remember the way she smells.  I can just about feel the weight of her in my arms.  I come so close to remembering how soft her hair is when I kiss it.  I can almost remember the feel of her raspberries on my stomach and arms.  But it's not like it was, it's not really fully there, and I know that it will fade even more.  I know I won't ever forget, but the memory won't ever be fully satisfying.

I'm glad I can't remember the way she looked when I found her.  I thought that would be with me for the rest of my life, but I can't really remember.  It's all a haze.   And believe me, I've tried.  I can't remember how she felt in the hospital, I can only barely remember wanting them to take the intubation out while I held her.  I can't remember the stale smell of the funeral home.

But I remember all too clearly the weight of the coffin in our hands.  I remember how cold she was at the home.  All I want is to keep on remembering my girl, but all I can remember all the way is the most recent stuff.  The stuff I'd rather just forget.  And every night I go to sleep and I forget.  Unless I dream about it.  And then I wake up.  And every time I wake up I remember that she's gone.  Spiritually I'm perfectly fine with her being in Heaven because I know that I will be with Ariana again, but physically I'm sick with wanting her.



Tonight, I put on my robe for the first time since the day Ariana died.  It smells like spit up.  I never thought I'd be so grateful for such a gross smell.  But it was kind of like a hug.



I'm not forgetting, little one.  I'd just like a little nudge like this here and there so that I can block out remembering the other things.