Memories are all we have.  They have the power to make things real: If we forget, did it ever really happen?  And when we do recall, why can a memory evoke the same emotions in us (shame, embarrassment, joy, despair) even if it has long since departed?  Or if we cannot find the moment in our mind, can we ever really enjoy it?  As it happens, we cannot wring from it all that the moment holds - its significance, its meaning, its foretelling. We can only truly examine it, relish it, savor it, as we turn it over in our mind, in our memory.  Live in the moment only? Discard your baggage?  No, cling to your memories.  They are our allies against the irresistible march of time. They are our path to our best of times that we can only see in hindsight. They are our means for understanding where we find ourselves.  And our tribute to who we are.  Memories are all we have.  

MEMORY  

Memories are a precious, precious thing
Even ones that burn, even ones that sting
Like when some,  one and only one said
Your love is a silly little thing

Remember your best of times in sorrow
That were blind in the dark of your next tomorrow
But now those days are the good old days
Look back is the only, only way

So hold on...hold on...hold on to things gone past
Because nothing...no nothing
Under heaven ever really last
But your memory

Memories are a precious, precious thing
Always one that yearn, always ones that sing
Like the time you took my hand and said
You would dance to the music that we bring

So hold on...hold on...hold on to things gone past
Because nothing...no nothing
Under heaven ever really last
But your memory

 

So when my eyes are growing dim

And the final payment is coming due

I couldn't stand the anguish

If I can't remember you...

 

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