I said, "You'll get to see my house!"
Michael: "Did you move?"
Me: "No - I haven't moved since I moved to L.A....?"
Michael: "Then I already saw it when I was out last year."
Me: "Oh my god."
How is it possible that I could I have forgotten about my nephew's visit?!
Then, I was talking with my cousin Lorinda who recently got engaged and is planning her wedding. Lorinda and her fiance Dan live in Texas, and will be getting married there. I'll be standing up in her wedding (YAY!!) and when we were talking about it the other day, I told her how excited I am that I'll finally get to meet her fiance! She said I already met him once - when they were in Buffalo the summer after Matt died, right before I moved.
This time it wasn't quite as shocking, but it still surprised me that I could have such sizable chunks of my life escape my memory like that from that first year and a half after Matt's death. Why can't those memories be the ones I really would prefer not to remember, like the morning of, and just about every single detail and emotion for the next few days after that?
I wonder what else I don't remember...