Forgotten and Found

Forgotten

No evidence exists to understand why they forgot. It is unknown if he or she briefly remembered and intentionally forgot. Or, if sadness, apathy, anger, or hatred ran so deep that the mind simply refused to remember.

So when it was reported to her via email around 8 p.m. on a Thursday evening, “Mom called today to say Happy Anniversary,” she continued with her work at a nearby library. Champagne corks remained unpopped, celebratory kisses remained trapped behind depressed lips. There was no mention that this was the anniversary of when they promised themselves to each other ten years ago. They slept side by side like two half-moons whose arcs nearly collide but remain separated by the vacuousness of loneliness.

There was nothing left to do but to divide belongings, decide the least detrimental way to let the house slide from their grip and determine the fate of their children. They were falling down a snow-covered hill, no longer fresh and beautiful, but now filled pebbles, dirt, and dead weeds that cut into their unprotected skins as they tumbled. The free-fall could not be stopped. When they hit the bottom, nothing would remain.

Found

But, they did not die. Only material goods were lost. So like nomads, they left in middle of the night with the children and very few belongings. They headed West like so many restless wanderers before them in hopes of something better.  He told her she was beautiful. She cooked his favorite meals. There were flowers, walks, and holding hands until they fell asleep. They lived in house with no furniture but slowly piece by piece, the house became full again.  

 

Happy 15th Anniversary to my loving, steadfast husband.