Forced To Remember

I often find my mind wandering to people I care about who have died. I have such fond memories of them so it is enjoyable to just bask in the love we shared. There is a picture of my father directly across from where I sit. When I look up at him smiling down at me I smile and think of things we did together. It is comforting.

My family has a lot of birthdays this time of year. On birthdays I remember the person and memories flood into me. In the case of the people who have died I silently wish them a happy birthday.

Those memories I bring to myself. But occasionally there will be something that forces me to think of someone.

When I look in the mirror I often see a bit of my mother. As a child I looked like both my parents; at different times of course. But as I have gotten older I look more like Mom. It makes me feel good. My mother was a beautiful woman.

Once at work we were having a training session. I started to ask a question and abruptly stopped; I was totally stunned. My mother's voice was coming from my mouth! When I was finally able to explain the shocked look on my face I think everyone thought I had lost my mind.

In both cases I was forced to remember Mom. It happens more and more and it pleases me.

Daddy is sometimes a forced memory too. When we still had the house my parents lived in when he died all of us were forced to remember him.

My father was punctual. Every day after work he came home and opened the front door at almost exactly 4:00 in the afternoon. Anyone who was there would look up to greet him. So after he died if someone came in the door at that time we automatically looked up expectantly thinking we would see him.

Several times I could smell my father. I do not know that he had a particularly distinctive odor but I knew it was his smell. I was forced to remember him.

When my granddaughter was little I told her when she found a feather that it was a reminder that someone who had died was thinking of her. We had lost my mother-in-law and two of my sisters-in-law within a short time. My granddaughter adored all of them.

My granddaughter found feathers everywhere. One day she found three lying together. She knew who they were from. She is 16 now and still finding feathers. She is being forced to remember her great-grandma and her great-aunts. She will always have them in her heart.

Recently my son had a dream that he found strange. He was smoking a cigarette and putting the ashes in a pop bottle and eventually put the cigarette into the bottle to put it out. My son has never smoked. But his father smoked and often used a pop bottle as an ashtray.

My son was also looking through his electronic reader for books to purchase. Based on books he had previously bought the reader had some suggestions. One of them was titled The Gift and the author had the same first and last name as his father. He bought it simply for that reason. He was being forced to remember his father. By the way it was the type of story he really enjoys and he liked the book.

Recently I was walking to my car. As I crossed the yard I noticed something on the ground.When I picked it up it was a flat piece of rubber about 2 inches in diameter. It was a tire patch.

My sister-in-law made tire patches where she worked. When she would come to visit us on vacation she always had a bag of tire patches and glue for the kids for their bikes. I smiled and placed it in the cup holder in my car. It fit perfectly. I think of her whenever I put a cup in it.

I am happy when I am forced to remember these people. They were all so special to me. And when I think of them I smile.