Episode 5: Rollerskates and Suitcases

The three vignettes in this episode aren’t just memories—they’re seismic shifts.

Moments when the earth moved beneath a child’s feet.

When gossip traveled faster than a teenager scrambling for a couple’s skate.

When silence spoke louder than any explanation.

Reflections on what it means to be chosen, to be left behind, and to keep breathing when it feels impossible.

The lesson: resilience.

The kind that rolls Aca Y Alla--here and there--even when the pavement cracks.

Because sometimes, there is no other choice but to keep moving.

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If you’ve ever wondered whether the small moments of your life matter—they do.

Right now is one of them.

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Find Beth’s creative archive—including I Must Have Forgotten and True Crime BnB—at linktr.ee/bethpods

Episode 4: Geysers and Goodbyes

A rogue Coca-Cola can. A ruined dessert. A farewell that echoed longer than expected. This episode revisits a family reunion gone spectacularly wrong and the quiet grief of leaving behind a beloved school, a best friend, and the first place that ever felt like home.

From cherry delight to fluoride treatments, from pop-top door curtains to half-toast theology, this is a story of childhood eruptions—both carbonated and emotional—and the talismans and gestures of compassion we carry forward.

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If you’ve ever wondered whether the small moments of your life matter—they do.

Right now is one of them.

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Find Beth’s creative archive—including I Must Have Forgotten and True Crime BnB—at linktr.ee/bethpods.

A train passes in the distance, and suddenly we’re back—back in the hush of the early 1970s, where middle children learned to disappear and houses held their breath. Country nights glowed with fireflies in our hands, and cows sometimes meandered behind the backyard fence. Unbothered and inoffensive.

This episode unfolds in three quiet vignettes:

— Train Sounds: lullabies of country life, steady and low, stitched into the fabric of memory

— Middle Child Manifesto: not all invisibility is sadness. From the middle, we learn courage, compassion, and how to witness

— Blessing to the East Tipp House: a tender tour of the house that holds the most memory. Its architecture, its nuances, its depth of meaning. May it ever be so.

A story of movement and stillness. Of roles inherited. Of memories reclaimed.

Come listen. The house is waiting.

For the fireflies, the cows, and the quiet ones in the middle.

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If you’ve ever wondered whether the small moments of your life matter—they do.

Right now is one of them.

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Find Beth’s creative archive—including I Must Have Forgotten and True Crime BnB—at linktr.ee/bethpods.

Episode 2: Claustrophobia and Backbone Rock

Fear can come from experiences, uncertainty, or even exhaustion. And damage isn’t always intentional. Sometimes it’s the result of a prank, the texture of a scratchy wool blanket, the moment you couldn’t move and someone laughed. Sometimes it’s realizing that your bravery has run out—and you need help.

The things we do can cause lasting harm, even when we never meant to.

This episode explores two sources of fear; one that lingers, and one that reaffirms.

Even when we’re brave, we have to know when to ask for help.

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If you’ve ever wondered whether the small moments of your life matter—they do. This is one of them.

Find Beth’s creative archive—including I Must Have Forgotten and True Crime BnB—at linktr.ee/bethpods.

Sound Design Note: This episode includes audio textures from MuseHub and Pixabay. These elements help carry the memory, shape the emotional arc—and are honored with gratitude here.

Episode 1: The Creek, the Boot, and the Beginning

A boot in the creek. A fragment that wouldn’t let go.

In this first episode of I Must Have Forgotten, Beth traces the quiet origins of both herself and of these chapters—where memory bubbled, stories were reclaimed, and the body of work began to take shape.

It’s a beginning marked not by ambition, but by curiosity and love. Through sound, reflection, and moments that shaped her, this episode opens the door to a memoir built from fragments—each one part of who she became.

If you’ve ever wondered whether the small moments of your life matter—they do. This is one of them.

Find Beth’s creative archive—including I Must Have Forgotten and True Crime BnB—at linktr.ee/bethpods.

Sound Design Note: This episode includes audio textures from MuseHub and Pixabay. These elements help carry the memory, shape the emotional arc—and are honored with gratitude here.

Wildcat Creek took my boot. Then whispered a question I haven’t stopped asking: Do the small moments of our lives matter?

This podcast begins with two little girls at the creek--and from there, all the fragments that make up a life. It’s a personal memoir rooted in ordinary moments—untethered joy, un-self-conscious grief, precious memory, and the stories we carry.

I Must Have Forgotten is a podcast about the small things that make us strong, break our hearts, or both.

The creek’s still running.

The stories are waiting.