He won’t remember the two weeks leading up to Halloween when I was realizing the decrease in medication was affecting me more than I thought it would. He won’t remember the dive back into self doubt, self hate; the constant desire to sleep, or cry, or runaway. He might not even remember that we slept at my parents’ house more nights than we did at our own. I pray he doesn’t remember all the times I was uncharacteristically short tempered with him.
He will remember that we snuggled a lot more than we had since the beginning of school. And he will remember that I worked hard with his Lela to make him the costume he requested for the school’s storybook parade and Halloween. He’ll remember that we still made it to school (both of us) and soccer practice and games. He’ll remember the love.
He’ll remember the smiles and that they were sincere because of my love for him. Because he’s what keeps me going most days. Him and the support I’ve surrounding myself with near and far. I know my anchors…though, I’m not sure all of them know they’re anchors.
All I can do is pray that I get it together before he does start remembering the dark shadowy days for what they really were and not the masks I tried to create to protect him from it all.

