Even if you don't have anyone you think will ever be interested in your stories, there may come a time when you are. Not everyone has a wealth of memories and certainly the older we get the less we remember. It seems everyday I lose more of my own memories. I don't know if it's caused by age (though I hope at 52 that's not an issue), my illness or stress - probably a combination of everything. But whatever the cause, I am constantly reminded how I don't remember so much... and it makes me so very very sad. I hope this never happens to anyone, but it can. This is one of the reasons that I scrapbook the kids so much; why there are annual albums of the main events and layouts of just everyday stuff... not just for them but because I can't remember much of anyone's childhood.
It is because of this that I grab whatever memories I can. When I came across this photo, it reminded me of so many things that happened in 1987. Such a horrid year - nights in the ER in horrible pain, a hysterectomy at the age of 25, and four months later finding the lump in my breast. But there were sweet and funny moments as well - my daughter getting up at 6am to set up the Monopoly board and then waiting hours for me to get around to playing, Thanksgiving at my grandmother's house with the entire family, all my aunts gathering in my grandma's tiny kitchen just feet away from the men folk to feel my breast, my step-dad talking me into reconciling with my dad when I wasn't about it at all. I felt that it was imperative, for my own sake, to get everything down while I remembered it. Also, I may stumble upon other photos that were taken that year, but this is the one that reminds me of everything.