Memories of Normal

We go through life “making memories”…and in doing so I think that my expectation…and maybe other’s as well is that it’s the “best days” that make the most lasting memories. The days we’ll never forget. That you wish you could just press “play” on in your brain and watch them over and over again. And I do have memories like that. Honestly, sometimes the memories have smoothed over in my head and become almost better than the real thing. Instances where my “rear-view mirror” is definitely rose-colored. Kind of like birthing a baby I guess…the pain is forgotten.

How is it that we can so easily “forget” the painful moments in a “best day”, but the memories of the “worse days” don’t fade in the same way? They’re always right there in technicolor…dolby surround sound (is that even a thing anymore? I don’t know). The moments that ripped me apart…and keep ripping me apart…that play over and over in my brain without my permission. This past week I looked at my therapist through my tears and flat out said, “This is what I pay you for. Fix me”…and I was joking…but not.

And really when my heart is aching and I can’t take a deep breath…it’s not the “best days” or the “worse days” that I’m thinking about. It’s the “normal days”. The mundane things. The feeling of picking up my phone to see some random text from Jason…of hearing his car pull into the driveway…of doing dishes after dinner together and him teasing me because I would put the leftovers in containers, but forget to put them in the fridge…going on walks with my hand in the crook of his elbow because holding hands while walking always felt awkward…having a warm place to stick my cold feet in bed…the way he thought my sense of humor was ridiculous “you think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”…watching our kids do all their things and looking at each other and feeling so much pride in the humans we made together…his arms around me at night when it’s storming or even just windy because he knew I was freaking out inside…watching him play tennis and the way he always wanted me and the kids to be present and included in his tennis world…I could go on and on…

And now the normal just feels mundane. And as much as I have great kids and fantastic friends…making the normal somehow feel like LIVING again is something I just have to figure out solo. And that is exhausting.