aging

I have a very good memory. Too good, in fact. Every minute of every day I am assaulted by memories. Some are good, some are bad, some are embarrassing, and some are traumatic. Some are just dreams of a world that should be and isn’t. But I can’t shut then off, and they don’t fail to affect me. The good memories are maybe the most traumatic, paradoxically, because they are things that are gone and may never come back. It seems as I age, there is a kind of plaque… Read More »The Assault of Memories