I have had a busy day, but memories keep surfacing of Jason's journey with cancer. Like the sound of a Bearhawk overhead taking me back to when Jason and I flew in various personal planes out to San Francisco. The smell and taste of English breakfast tea and milk, just like at that San Francisco bed and breakfast we spent so much time at. The fleeting memories of foods cooked at the annual Not-Yet-Dead parties (that bacon-wrapped sausage loaf from the first party came to mind). Using the paddle shifters in my car and remembering when we first brough Li'l Blue, the new car, down from Seattle in a road trip.
All good memories.
It's nice to be able to think back and not have instant thoughts of what was bad about our journey together. Oh, don't get me wrong, the bad is right there behind the good. But that's just it. It is Behind the good, not up front. And there was so much good to dwell on, whether it be before we knew about the cancer or even in his last days and all the sorrow that came with it. I can now sift through the floating memories and pull bits and pieces out--but only with the help of sights, sounds, tastes, and smells. At least I can get to some of the memories, no matter how deep they may be.
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