Love the Memories...

I heard something today: I love the memories but I hate the reminders.

I thought to myself, Yes, that's it!  A reminder causes me to think of someone or something where as a I choose to think of a memory. A reminder is a noun, something that I can see or touch.  A memory is in my mind already.

Don't get me wrong, reminders aren't all bad. In fact, sometimes they trigger the best memories. It's during grief, when they remind me of the person who is no longer here or they remind me of the reason they are no longer here, that they trouble me.

For instance, Good Friday seems to trigger many things in me because in 2006, that was was the day my mom and dad were picking up the Easter Lilies from the florist to decorate their church.  They were T-Boned one block away and my mother was never the same after. Also, whenever I'm at the intersection where the accident occurred, I am reminded of that day that changed so many lives.

Another reminder I don't like is waiting for trains, especially ones carrying big rolls of steel. On Friday, March 13, my sister Barb was ran over by the remote controlled shipping train she was operating. And the most common reminder I seem to have daily is seeing a black Ford Focus, the kind of vehicle that struck my daughter Haylee.  At first, it used to be any color of Focus, but now, it's really only the black ones that disturb me the most.

I love the memories, but I hate the reminders!

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