How I choose to remember.

I'm not really sure how to begin. As I sit down to write this, my Aunt Dee Dee has been gone for about three hours, and I've finally wrapped my head around what she meant to me. I've decided that I'm not going to remember the years she spent in a hospital bed following her stroke. I'm going to edit all that right out of my mind, because I can. It's my mind, and those are my memories to let