The Fear of Forgetting: #29

Monday, January 3, 2011

#29

It’s their front door. I lived there for 18 years and still probably couldn’t pick it out in a lineup. It really was only opened for specific “front door guests.” We were side door people.

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Athazagoraphobia - the fear of forgetting or of being forgotten

After watching several close relatives lose their personal histories to the nothingness of dementia, I have developed a fear of forgetting. In an effort to both work through this fear and organize its manifestation, this blog will serve as a personal archive of memories, photographed and described. As the adage goes, though, often the image serves as the memory more so than words could describe. Therefore, descriptions may take on the form of personal narratives, quick informational text, a quotation, poem, etc. This blog will become my personal insurance policy against both forgetting and being forgotten.