70 Comments

Truly, truly. I relate to some of the forgetting that happens from one day to the next. Not sure if it's dissociation, aging, the effects of stress, or maybe the relative unimportance of certain info that tries to enter this busy brain of mine. Though disorienting at times, and a little upsetting at other times, I'm mostly trying to live in the present. It's the only place that's actually real. I'm all for that. And the memories flow in and then go back to the sea. All good. Love you, Abby. Thank you for all the things you share with us so frankly. xoxo

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Thank you, Nan. I think it's due to age, and all of the above.

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Yes.

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I will be 82 this coming October. All we really have is this moment.

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How do you do it? Each piece equals/surpasses each piece before and keeps surprising, too.

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Judy, you are too kind, but thank you. I love that you liked it. I had to face it somehow, and this was the best way I could think of, and the truest. Time makes less and less sense, the older I get.

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“there’s no guarantee how much of Friday will survive the trip into Saturday” is now my mantra. Thank you Abby!

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That you get it is comforting to me. Thank you, Starling.

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I love that phrase. It’s poignant and perfect. Thank you for your beautiful words.

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Thank you for saying that. and for readiing.

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My husband's daily moments don't survive until the next day. Being the memory keeper for a spouse with short term memory loss is stressful. A wonderful reflection on time and memory. Thank you for sharing Abigail.

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That *was* beautifully phrased. I think I won't be forgetting those words soon.

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You rule the last line. Always, my friend.

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I love you, Beth.

Thank you.

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I’m not 82 but even at (almost) 60, I find I worry less about shit because I forget it happened. It’s kinda great.

Present Abby’s as good as she ever was. And she was pretty fucking good. ❤️

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Kate, thank you. And yeah, it's pretty funny when lousy times disappear into the--the what?Whatever, one less thing to fuck us up.

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On the swell with you, Abby. Beth is right.

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Thank you, Rona. On the swell together.

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"There's no guarantee how much of Friday will survive the trip into Saturday." I will be passing this one on to patients and families.

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Thank you. That's an honor.

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"... I can carry on a reasonable conversation, make a birthday cake, get to the bathroom, feed the dogs." A wonderful list of things we love to do, things to rejoice in, to feel so grateful we have dogs to feed, and folks to make birthday cakes for! The bathroom agency... priceless. A high bar! Thank you, Abby!

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So nice of you, thank you, Natalie.

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Thank you. I know a little bit about loving a man whose memory is gone. It's hard.

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“I think of each moment as a nautical swell, and I surf from one to the next, and seldom wipe out.” This line, and then its echo at the end — beautiful.

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Thank you very much!

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I'll be sharing this beautiful reminder that living in the moment is okay. Ride that wave, sister.

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It's actually preferable, at least for me. I love the moment.

Thank you very much.

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Learning to surf took a lifetime and then suddenly it’s all ocean all the time, little beach. Love this.

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I do a lot of floating as well. That's easy.

Thanks, Kelly.

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‘Luckily each moment holds a world.‘ What a way to see it, Abigail. Inspiring.

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It does. We just have to slow down and sit still and look around.

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oh mty god, I forgot to say thank you. THANK YOU.

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Do you find yourself in moments that seem, somehow, timeless? I love those. Then I crash back into the now. Sometimes it's great, sometimes... well, you know.

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Yes, when the wave is huge and goes on and on. Very pleasant. It sounds like you do tooo. Thank you for asking.

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except for when it isn't. pleasant, that isi

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I stopped assuming that the forgetfulness of others is due to age when I realized in my early thirties that I had blocked all memories related to international travel in a period of several years. Where did those passport stamps come from? The mind draws blanks for so many reasons, so I don't worry about that more than other strokes on life's canvas.

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Good for you. me neither. But it was a decision I made, not to worry. But I'm old. It sounds like it came naturally to you which is very cool.

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My Hobbit (husband) and I just wrote about Time last week. Or rather “timelessness” which is a state of being he thoroughly enjoys, and I have spent much of my life avoiding as I continuously worked to Fill Time like it was a pillowcase in desperate need of stuffing. What I’m learning about Timelessness is that it is as elusive as the next perfect wave.

You seem to have become the water. I hope someday to remember that feeling, as I can imagine it is much like floating in amniotic fluid of the womb.

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I loved yours and your hobbit’s pieces about time and instantly subscibed. You seem a perfect match.

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I’m honored.

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I'm excited.

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I loved stuffing time like a pillowcase. Whag a perfect image. I'm not sure I have thought about timelessness, and I think I like marking morning, noon, and night, moment by moment. The water? What a lovely idea. Thank you for all this, what you've thought about. I will look for what you and your hobbit wrote about time.

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My brother is a surfer. He taught me some about not turning his back on the ocean whilst also working with the waves and currents to fold into time. Your piece made me remember that conversation and its threads.

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