I recently had to restore my iPod because of some weird issues, but I thought hey, no problem - everything important is backed up. I can access my notes, I can reload my music, it'll be fine.
Today I went in to play Temple Run 2. I'm actually pretty good at it, and I wanted a little confidence boost. I had racked up all these points and lives, and I was excited to play without worrying about dying - I could just use one of my many lives and start up where I left off.
But everything was gone. All the lives, all the points, all the extra features I had earned for my avatar. I was back to square one - zero points, zero lives, and some dude as the avatar instead of the kickass female character I had worked my way up to.
It sounds ridiculous that this would matter. I mean, who the heck cares? It's just a game, a game I haven't played in months.
Except I played it this time last year. A lot, in fact. When my mom was to the point in her decline when all she could really do during the day was sit in her chair and watch reruns of NCIS, I would sit nearby and play Temple Run. When she got to the point where she couldn't get out of bed anymore, I would hold her hand with one hand and hold my iPod in the other and play it as she slept. It kept me entertained, and occupied but not too occupied, and probably a little sane. And now all those stupid points and all those stupid hours - they're gone.
Of course I know that those hours aren't really gone. I still have the memories, and the blog entries, and the images of her burned in my brain. But every little piece, every little keepsake matters right now, in this first year. So I just wish I could get those pieces - the tangible ones, the ones that aren't supposed to be lost - back. Just for a little while. Just so I can remember.