I just wish I could remember one with her instead of that once again it comes without her.

I never forget, but sometimes I am late. . .
Oh, who am I kidding. In basic life, those who know me can attest, I am late and forget most things daily.
When it comes to her, though, I do not forget. I am sometimes late.
So at 1pm today, I was at the gym alone. I am neither a downtrodden sort or a crier. At all.
And I could not understand why I kept feeling quite on the brink of tears. Not a few, but millions. . .I mean, yep. . . I seemed to be working against that many. Work against them, I did. I left thinking. . .Mercy, I need coffee and food or a nap.
A bit ago, I realized it was the 18th.
My mind took longer to remember what my soul doesn't show up late to or forget, it seems.
A Catastrophic event can eclipse the past in such a way that things behind it are broken, shambled and ruined. And you can try but never recover the things before it.
I wish I could tell you it is not like that for me, but I do not think of her outside of or apart from fire. Our history before is ashes. Mine with her and Ben and Quentin.
Her birthday. . .today. . .she would be 29.
I have tried to explain it, but it is not easy.
When I think of my Daddy, when I think of my Papaw, it is so easy to remember our histories rich in stories and life. Life. So much life. I don't usually even think of their deaths. I know. . .they are gone, but it is hardly the same. I remember their lives with ease and happiness.
I can vividly remember trips to the Kentucky Derby and papaw flirting with college girls. I can easily recall how daddy called me each day and started it with, "This is your papa." I know exactly how they moved, spoke. . .I think of them as they were. Not how they left. Never that, really. When I hear their names, I immediatly think of a multitude of tales about their lives and my life with them.
But catastrophe is different when it has been through, in that it can take everything and leave you nothing. . . Figuratively, to say nothing of literally.
When I see photos with her or the boys, I think of screams, fire and death.
When I hear their names, I can only ever think of their absences.
So my mind has caught up with my heart on her birthday.
I don't forget it.
I just wish I could remember one with her instead of that once again it comes without her.