I Search

I search. Constantly. For the memories I know are there, stored somewhere. But, the ones I most want seem irretrievable. They are at the very edge of recovery, seemingly cloaked in a shroud. I need those memories so I can have my parents and my others close to me again. To see their faces, hear their words, feel their touch, to tell them what I hadn’t, for them to tell me all again, for me to fill them in between then and now, and let them know the joys they missed. The dreams of them I have aren’t recalled moments, just cruel inventions that also slip away.