Will I remember how he boiled pot after pot of water on the stove, pouring them into the bathtub and then tenderly washing my hair, or will I just remember that we didn’t pay the gas bill? Will I remember all the hours that he’s spent outside in the freezing weather, underneath our car, patiently fixing parts while his fingers turned purple, or will I remember that we always had a shitty car that needed fixed all the time? Will I remember how he never made me pack, how he knows how stressed out I get so he would always pile everything up in the living room and send me to take a nap, and then when I got up he would have put everything where it’s supposed to go, or will I remember that we moved all the time? Will I remember how he is with our son, the way he takes the time to explain everything in terms he can understand, the two of them bent over their newest Lego creation, or will I remember the same Lego’s packed up in a garbage bag by the curb? Will I remember all the laughter, the days of movies and snuggling on the couch, the way he can find the humor in any and all situations, or will I remember the fighting and the tears and the words that hurt? Will I remember him patiently blowing up an air mattress night after night, then sleeping on the couch so that I could have the more comfortable bed, or will I remember that our mattress got ruined in the rain?
I choose to remember the good.