Day #50

     I forget things so easily.... I'm not sure if that is specific to being 43, or if its because of stress.  I know I'm not the only one though.  I have this great idea.. or something I want to say, or tell someone.. and it will fly right outta my ear, never to be thought, said, or told again. I wonder how many life changing, amazing, things crossed my mind... that I forgot. Guess I'll never know, because I can't remember!!
     I have facebook friends, that I should remember.. I remember their names, but that's all, not all of them, but some. I wonder if I'm the only one who puts an x on her hand.... to remind me of something important... then I forget what the x is for. How sad is that.
    I suppose its part of getting older, and I really don't like it at all. I would really love to find that fountain of youth so I could go soak myself... long enough to be 23 again. Long enough to have that youthful glow... I think they call it, "looking dewy" Yes looking like that would make me very happy.
    So today, two days before Christmas, and I have gotten my tree out in the living room, it won't stand up and I haven't decorated, haven't wrapped a single present, haven't done any of it. I lost my Christmas Spirit somewhere... and this year I am really struggling to find it. I love the lights on the houses all over town, and some beautiful trees that I see in picture windows, but it doesn't leave me feeling any more festive. I think to myself... "Awww that's pretty" then I drive on.
     I think Jay was excited for Santa to come for a few years, Max never was... I am not sure if he ever knew who Santa Claus is. I would love to know. I would love to know what he'd ask for if he could talk, what he'd of asked for all these years that have passed us by. That is a beautiful, but heartbreaking thought.. and its one of those thoughts that despite my failing memory... has never been forgotten. Of course my Christmas wish is always to hear his voice... and have a conversation with him... I would give anything to hear him talking to me. His words would be like music to my ears... and I would never want to stop listening. I can't even write those  words without tears streaming down my face. I think in this entire journey of life and autism, that is the one thing that my heart just breaks for every single day... If only we could figure out how to find his words.
I remember a line from a poem I wrote many years ago..... "If I could give you back your voice... would you take it, and go play?"

Until tomorrow