It gives me great frustration that despite my efforts, my memory is never adequate. I strain until my head feels as though it will burst, trying to revisit those happier times. I may remember the words said, but the speaker, oh the speaker’s face escapes me – just barely out of reach. Sometimes the blurred memory of a person’s features sharpen for a split second, teasing me, since after that split second, the face is gone, and the description and shadow of the memory is all I have. The moments that do appear spontaneously provoke nostalgia and joy. “My God, a moment of bliss. Why, isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime?”
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