Memory… is the diary that we all carry about with us. ~Oscar Wilde
Memories are the only possessions that we really own, and they are the treasures that we can recall at any time. We view them like old photographs, gaze fondly upon them, and then lovingly put them away for safe keeping in the attics of our minds.
After all, they are ours to do with as we wish, and we learn, sometimes with a feeling of sadness, that we can’t live solely for them, because we would then find an existence only in our past, with our present happiness and joy strangely absent.
One of the most tender and comforting elements of remembrance may be this ~~ that our friends and loved ones will remain forever as they were, for us. The sands of time will have little or no effect on our memory pictures of them.
“Every man’s memory is his private literature.” ~ Aldous Huxley