Don’t ask me the year we got married because I couldn’t tell you. While I’m actually pretty good remembering dates, I’m terrible on remembering years.
I lose track of years. I know when my children were born, even the day of the week, but the year? Forget it.
There are only three dates along with the year I can remember.
I remember my twin brother passing away on September 27, 1994. I think of that almost every day.
I remember my grandfather’s death. He died on my birthday. He died May 1, 1967.
And I remember, of course, the date and year of my birthday. I’m not going to tell you what year it is, because it will just confirm that I’m getting old and I don’t want you to know that.
(Image found on Google)