Sometimes after deep loss, memories disappear for a while.
Not because they are gone — but because the weight of what was happening was simply too much to hold clearly at the time.
Stress and grief have a way of pushing certain moments — and even pieces of who we are — out of reach while the mind focuses on surviving what is in front of it.
Even the music we love, the places that once felt like home, the parts of ourselves that once came easily can suddenly feel distant — almost as if they belong to someone we used to be.
And then, sometimes out of nowhere, they return.
A song that reaches in again. A memory that arrives with full clarity. Some places that once felt far away will again feel familiar.
Lately, I feel this happening more and more — like who I really am is quietly coming back out.
And when it does, it feels like such a gift — as if something precious found its way back and reminds us that not everything was lost.
It is strange how the mind protects first, and later, when life is quieter, begins to hand pieces back.
Some memories do not leave. They simply wait until we are able to carry them differently.