Memories are absurd things. Some are vague, some crystalline,
some too painful to recollect and some so painful it's impossible to forget.
Happy times are remembered with warmth and laughter,
recalled as an anecodte in the pub,
exaggerated for the crowd.
The really good ones keep you company on an otherwise lonely evening.
The clearest memories are of those occasions the situation inspires that you remember.
That feeling of incredible exultation or terrible despair enables your brain
to note the details that normally pass you by,
like the color of someone's shirt, a hand gesture or how warm or cold it was.
You can recall the creases caused by the smile on a loved one's lips
or the way tears crept from their eyes.
But pain is hard to put into words
and in life there is always pain.
It's a natural birth or death. Pain makes us who we are,
it teaches us and tames us,
it can destroy and it can save.
