Memories

"When you lose someone," says Dr. H. Norman Wright, "what you have left basically are the memories. At first they're so sharp that they hurt. In time those memories begin to dull. They diminish. That in itself is another loss that you have to go through. In writing about it, you don't lose those memories. They're always there in black and white."

For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you" (2 Corinthians 2:4).

Lord, give me the discipline and the courage to sit down and write out special memories about my loved one - James Minich. Thank you, Jesus, Amen.

The above passage was taken from my GriefShare daily email. As the one year anniversary of Jim's death approaches, I feel that it is time to start documenting the memories I have of him. I as so afraid of forgetting them and I want to be sure Emily has them all.

Today's memory is that I came home from work one day and Jim had replaced all the toilet seats. He didn't tell me he was doing it, he just did it and surprised me. I was always complaining that the seats are cold. I don't like the cold. So I got a soft, cushiony seat in my bathroom and in the hall bath. Emily got a really cute one - blue (Jim's favorite color) with fish and dolfhins on it. I came home and didn't notice it until later that evening. I was so ecstatic. He loved it when I thought he was the coolest.