The mind is a very funny thing. It develops and develops to a point, and then for many of us it stops working as well or perhaps just gets jumbled around some. Memory is especially a funny thing - how come my brother and I remember things so differently? Why are some things blocked from my brain and other things cannot be removed (like every single year for 22 years remembering the birthday of my first love, even though we haven't been in touch for 20 years)?
I am back in Asheville for a day and a half. It just worked out for me to come on my way (kinda) from a business meeting out of town. I saw Granny first thing when I got back into town yesterday. She's 91 now and has been in a nursing home since mid-November. It's a really nice place and it's where she needs to be. Granny was present when I was born - we lived with her until age 10 - and then she has always lived very near or very close to us. She likes to say that she helped raise my brother and me. Granny didn't recognize me initially yesterday - I said "Granny," and she knew a grandkid would say that and came up with my cousin Brenda's name. It's okay - it didn't really make me sad - she seems happy and talked about my children for a long time during our visit (her favorite story about 15 times over - she loves reruns!).
Then today I have been visiting friends. I saw my beloved mentor, Ashley, still recovering from that terrible car accident last summer. I am still so thankful she is here and doing so well - even though there is still so much left in her recovery. I've seen some other friends during the day and will even get to go to a Book Group meeting tonight.
I am so thankful for all the dear friends I have up here - and know I will continue to have - but memories and friendships are continuing without me. It's just the way it is. It doesn't mean that I won't continue with my friendships - we certainly will continue. But memories of me will be more rare and far between. And I wonder when I'll be able to see my friends without wanting to cry - tears of happiness to be with them and then tears of regret that I am missing so much of their lives and they are missing so much of mine.