Here is my goal: to remember. This is why, I think, I do things like write down stuff, take photographs. Sometimes I wonder what will happen when I die, to my thoughts and memories and photographs. This is what I wonder, what I worry about. Will someone buy my album from goodwill for $1 and scan the vintage photos and use them for scrapbook decorations? But really, it doesn’t matter. If they are buried with me, if they are cheapened, or unappreciated, or forgotten. They are for me, and only me, to remember in my lifetime, the wonderful, fragile, perfect bits and moments, imperfectly recorded and never quite matching up to what they are.

This is what I want to remember right now: I am blessed. So enormously blessed and loved and full of love. I feel perfect in my life and in my physical body, right now in this moment. Why? I don’t know and I can’t figure it out, but that too, doesn’t matter. It’s enough that I am. I want to remember in the moments when petty aggrivation and sadness come, how blessed and happy I am. That whatever it is can’t possibly match up. That I have no cause or excuse for even the tiniest amount of sadness. That this life is extraordinary, remarkable, and that it is mine. How? I don’t know that either. I’ve been entrusted with the most perfect, caring, person in the universe and he is mine. This is what I feel blessed for most in my life, and luckiest for. This is what I am thankful for almost every second, and what I should be thankful for every single second. How I found him I’ll never know, but I am happy.

I used to feel guilty for all that I have, when I don’t deserve any of it. But lately I feel that I do, as much as anyone ever can. And instead of guilt, now I just feel gratitude.

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