Faded memories fill my mind, especially those of the days of my youth; those were the times in my life when I felt as if I belonged, as if I were a part of something much larger and greater than myself. The sum of my pars is the essence of my being, personified.
Somehow along the way I became the historian in my circle of friends. Somehow I was gifted with the ability to remember moments and times in my life in vivid detail yet at the same time, these memories seem unimportant to some, but to me they mean everything.
If I could do it all over again, I would have made drastically different decisions in my life, taken far more pictures, and documented my thoughts and experiences more effectively. Time is a strange thing; things change, children grow, there’s nothing that the ravages of time won’t touch. Time itself is a corrosive that does its magic slow and sweet.
If something were to happen to me and those childhood memories of days when nothing really mattered, we still believed in fairy tales, and we still hadn’t lost sight of our hopes and dreams were suddenly forgotten, will the memories die? Perhaps more importantly, what is it about these memories that I try to preserve while everyone else doesn’t seem to care?
The header graphic was created using Canva, and incorporates the fonts Sunday and Magic Marker. The photographs included in the text come from my family collection.
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