- I love you, mum - she said, holding my hand, minutes before drifting off to sleep.
- I love you too - I replied - very much.
(Ok, so this is it. This is that moment I should always, always recall whenever I'm stupidly stressed over shoes not being put quickly enough in the morning, or missing socks, or something equally unimportant. This is it. Just like the moment before your first kiss - you should remember these things, they make your life special.)
- People often forget that they love each other - she added.
I was still in that 'remember that moment' zone. Then her words reached me. And I just held my breath, and didn't say a word, just listened (I know, that is hardly ever the case, yet ...).
- And it is the most important message. And when people forget it, it goes to that message room. A lot of people work there, because they need to push these messages back when you forget - she explained. And then said - Isn't it?
- Hm - I said - are you talking about brain?
- Not exactly, it's next to it. That place where all the forgotten messages go. The message room.
- You mean, memory?
- Yes, that one... - she yawned, and felt asleep.
Sometimes it's not about correcting. Explaining that no, there is no such 'thing' as people living inside people, unless you're expecting, but that's not what we're discussing here; that there is no other place than brain to keep memories; it's all neurons and hormones, and ...
Who cares? She'll get it, sooner or later. Or maybe, she'll proof we're all wrong. And there is a special message room, next to our brain, where all the most important messages go, once forgotten. So then others can push them back and let you say 'I love you'.