to remember

"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.  Pray you, love, remember."  Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 5

Sometimes it's hard to remember.
Sometimes remembering hurts.
The little kindnesses shown,
The half-smile on the beloved's face,
The moment when you first realized that this is the last moment that you will have together
Can burn like fire when brought to mind
After death.

But love,
Remember.

Fire will eventually burn itself out
And among the embers
You will find sparks and glowing bits of memories.

The sparks leap and shine in our hearts:
The first glimpse
The first date
The first time
The kiss that spoke more than words ever could
And the promise made that you were sure could never be forgotten.

The glow sometimes is more elusive, but it still remains nonetheless:
The pleasant Sunday spent among the sheets,
Reading the cartoons to the kiddies
The whole family together and united.

The morning that you both felt sick and stayed home from work,
And so spent the day in adjoining easy chairs
Sipping 7-Up and eating crackers,
Every once in a while glancing at one another and smiling,
Content to be together even during this.

Sparks and embers, moments of sweetness,
but also moments of recognition:

That vacantness where there used to be only love,
That creeping coldness when you touch once-loving arms,
The moment you walk away from the bedroom
realizing
that you would never again come together as one.

Yes, those memories hurt.

But they're part of the fire, aren't they?

They're the ash.
They remind you that what you once had was gone.

Death has come.

Death of the beloved
or death of the relationship

And it's time to move on.

So, yes, move on,
But don't relegate your memories to some cobweb-filled back room.
For one thing, they will refuse to stay there.
They will keep inserting themselves in your dreams,
In your thoughts,

At the most inopportune time.
They cry out for you to pay attention.

So pay attention.
There is nothing to fear,
And much to learn.

Pray you, love,
Remember.