15 months

It’s now 15 months since Trev died.  The odd thing about it is that it doesn’t feel anything like 15 months since the last time I saw or spoke to him.

Which is odd, because one of the things I was warned about at the time, and which scared me, was the fear of somehow “forgetting” him.  Not forgetting he ever existed, but simply of losing my memories of him: of those memories blurring, bleaching and fading like old photographs.

And that hasn’t happened.  In fact, if anything the memories are more vivid than before, largely due to the fact that I think of him every day.  Every single day.  Usually not for long, but just long enough to imagine something he once said or did, and then briefly how much I miss him.

It’s not a morbid thing, and it’s not a conscious thing either, he just pops into my head a couple of times a day.  So, he’s not gone in that sense.  In a strange way, he’s more “there” than ever before.

It’s a nice feeling, knowing that my memories of him are safe, that they’re not going to go away.  That Trev is always going to be here in that sense.


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