We carry so many with us, it makes me wonder where they all stay. Some locked away only to be recalled by a certain spark. Some that bring strength, some that bring joy and just the slight smile, and some that still sting like the prick from the sharp edge of a dagger. I would not return any of them though, for they make up a part of me.
I still remember the steadfast words that my grandmother told me while I sat by her hospital bed, “Everyday just do your best and that will always be enough.” – This brings inspiration and purpose to every one of my days.
I still remember the Fourth of July night that my mother and I sat on the porch with glasses of wine laughing about our trials of life and watching the fireworks. – This brings a smile to me every time.
I still remember my first kiss under the play set on the playground. – This brings a memory of a sense of discovery.
I still remember the first time my son told me hated me. – This brings strength and courage to me.
Our memories are part of our story, they shape us and they remind us of where we’ve come from and what we’ve learned.
Some cherished, some painful…but all a part of us and that makes each one so beautiful and so powerful. Each one of our memories provides us a lesson in our lives.