I was sitting on the couch Pannie, in our house, wondering when my memory got quite as bad as it did. We relied on my memory, that and lists/calendars/techniques to remind us of us of the plans we'd made. It worked for the most part. It still does. But there's a new memory loss now - not my lazy/tired brain and not your epilepsy-drugged brain - my grief-stricken brain.
I've tried to read about it, learn about it a little but it's hard y'know. I read to escape - to get my mind away from the day-to-day - I always have. Reading about how my brain is in trauma after your death is hard reading. Reading that requires patience, strength and energy. I rarely have all of those at the same time these days.
Apparently my memory will recover over time, much like the rest of me. For now, it's a frustration in me that, strangely enough, I lived through you for many years...
I miss you with all of me.