The Sweetness of Forgetting Read Online Free PDF Page B

the same thing was happening to her, and it scared her for reasons no one would understand. She dared not speak them aloud. It was too late.
    Rose knew that the girl with the glistening brown hair, the familiar features, and the beautifully sad eyes had just told her who she was, but she had already forgotten. A familiar panic rose in her throat. She wished she could grab the memories like lifelines and hold on before she went under. But she found them slippery, impossible to grasp. So she cleared her throat, forced a smile, and hazarded her best guess.
    “Josephine, dear, look for the star on the horizon,” she said. She pointed to the empty space where she knew the evening star would make its appearance, any second now. She hoped she had guessed right. She hadn’t seen Josephine in a long time. Or maybe she had. It was impossible to know.
    The girl with the sad eyes cleared her throat. “No, Mamie, I’m Hope,” she said. “Josephine isn’t here.”
    “Yes, of course, I know that,” Rose said quickly. “I must have misspoken.” She couldn’t let them know, any of them, that she was losing her memory. It was shameful, wasn’t it? It was as if she didn’t care enough to hold on, and that embarrassed her, because nothing could be further from the truth. Perhaps if she pretended a little longer, the clouds would go away, and her memories would return from wherever they’d been hiding.
    “It’s okay, Mamie,” said the girl, who looked far too old to beHope, her only granddaughter, who couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. Yet Rose could see the lines of worry etched around this girl’s eyes, far too many lines for a girl that age. She wondered what was weighing on her. Maybe Hope’s mother would know what was wrong. Maybe then, Rose would be able to help her. She wanted to help Hope. She just didn’t know how.
    “Where is your mother?” Rose asked Hope politely. “Is she coming, dear?”
    Rose had so many things she wanted to say to Josephine, so many apologies to make. And she feared time was running out. Where would she begin? Would she apologize first for her many failures? For her coldness? For teaching her all the wrong lessons without meaning to? Rose knew she’d had many opportunities to say she was sorry in the past, but the words always caught in her throat. Perhaps it was time to force herself to say them, to make Josephine hear her before it was too late.
    “Mamie?” Hope said tentatively. Rose smiled at her gently. She knew Hope would grow up one day to be a strong, kind person. Josephine was that type of woman too, but her character was cloaked in so many layers of defenses, spawned by Rose’s mistakes, that it was hard to tell.
    “Yes, dear?” Rose asked, for Hope had stopped speaking. Rose suddenly had an inkling of a feeling that she knew exactly what Hope was about to say. She wished she could stop her before the words did their damage. But it was too late. It was always too late.
    “My mom—Josephine—died,” Hope said gently. “Two years ago, Mamie. Don’t you remember?”
    “My daughter?” Rose asked, sadness crashing over her like a wave. “My Josephine?” The truth came rolling in with the tide, and for a moment, Rose couldn’t catch her breath. She wondered at the tricks of the mind that washed away the unhappy memories, carrying them out to sea.
    But some memories, Rose knew, couldn’t be erased, even when one has spent a lifetime trying to pretend they are not there.
    “I’m sorry, Mamie,” Hope said. “Did you forget?”
    “No, no,” Rose said quickly. “Of course not.” Hope looked away and Rose stared at her. The girl reminded her for an instant of something, or someone, but before she could grasp the thought, it fluttered away, just out of reach, like a butterfly. “How could I forget such a thing?” Rose added softly.
    They sat in silence for a while, staring out the window. The evening star was out now, and soon after, Rose could see the