My father always says that happy is the guy who has a bad memory. I have a fabulous memory. So obviously I am dismal on most days. My empty moments are filled with a showreel of bad times, in technicolour. In fact it has now reached a point where the good parts of my thirty five years are reduced to bullet points.

And this got me thinking – what if I could use my memory to create a movie of good times.

The hugs my mom gave.

The first time brought home a trophy.

Those long walks with an ex boyfriend filled with nothing but silence and smiles.

Those quiet wins at work where you knew you had impressed.

Those laughs from friends & family after long journeys and absences.

That dog who loved.

That cat who didn’t ignore.

That piece of writing not backspaced.

My Two Firstborns (Forever)

So here I am, using my most sacred space – my blog – as a promise to start pulling the good parts. The memories that became bullet points in the shadow of ugly ones. Time to switch.

And as part of that promise here’s another one – to write more often. And to make some of it public out here as well. Also to let go – of people and memories that aren’t helping anymore. I have truly got everything I ever needed – a daughter to love as my own. Everything else is just accessories to a world that moves on automatically.

Until next time. Which could be tomorrow or say next month (or year?).

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