Sometimes I forget...

I forget how rough the road has been, how sunny the days,
and how moon-light filled the nights

I forget how many times I have flown across the ocean
and driven to and from the supermarket - safely

I forget so many names and faces and the places where we met

I forget to watch movies that have been lent to me
and read the books that have also come my way

I forget who I have told which stories and how many times

I forget whether or not I have taken my vitamins or brushed my teeth

I forget to pray with the kids before they go to bed
and forget to do my homeschool prep work

I forget to pack deodorant sometimes
and tampons and a pillowcase

I forget how much I am loved, remembered, thought of


Then I reread email or text messages or a card sent the old fashioned way

I look at photos from days and trips gone by

I look at the worn down soles of my boots and the frayed corners of my favorite suitcase

I look at how tall my children are and watch them cook for themselves and for me

I clear out textbooks and readers that served us when they were elementary aged homeschoolers


That's when  I remember

I remember how long we have lived in this magnificently perfect house

I remember how many trips we have taken together and apart

I remember nights we played games together and laughed until our dog barked at us with concern

I remember times when my voice caught in my throat like a jagged fish bone at moments of unspeakable sadness

I remember healings and reconciliations and soulful connections
followed by the briefest moment of a hand held or a knee grazed

I remember late night conversations with friends and loved ones

I remember many times I have been told that they think of me and love me

I remember and I say "thank you"


Thank you - insert your name and gorgeous face here - for your presence and love and encouragement in my life. Thank you for your patience with my forgetfulness, busyness, and excessive seriousness. Thank you for your persistence in tracking me down, asking me to have tea and coffee and martinis and mojitos and art dates with you, inviting me back into your lives over and over even though I blow it so often.  Thank you for putting up with my stuff: my silences, my distance, my ambushes, my relentless pursuits, my quirkiness, my geekiness, my long speeches, and my short answers.

Please forgive me, though, because every single day I forget...

Thank you, Most Holy One, for your deep and consistent and merciful goodness in my life. Thank you for being who you are even though I so often doubt you and ignore you and pretend that you don't exist. Thank you for showing up and showing yourself strong even when I wonder if you really care about me at all. Thank you that, if you are who you say you are, my questions and wanderings and wondering and insistence on doing things my way anyway make absolutely no difference with regard to your love for me.

Please forgive me, though, because every single day I forget...

Oh, but the joy of remembering again makes the shame of forgetting not feel quite so bad...