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.