Memory is a funny thing. Do we choose the memories we keep, or do the memories choose us? Today a fellow mommy posted a photo of her baby when she was three months old. I went back through my photos of Summer as a baby and because of my state of mind during most of those months, I think my mind just kind of washed those memories away. I was drowning in depression through Summer's entire infancy. I mourn her infancy because I was so absent mentally. I was in a strange town with strange people and in the winter it was impossible to go outside. I felt completely outcast. Maybe it was by my own doing because I was being someone I was not in order to feel accepted. Would I have been accepted there, for who I am now? And then I found myself looking through my wedding photos. Was it all in my head or did I actually look sad? The discovery and acceptance of the fact that my ex-husband may be a narcissist, my journey through codependents anonymous, and the rediscovery of my se...