Sometimes we don’t remember things
Sometimes we don’t want to remember them
Sometimes it’s only decades later that we understand the events, the clues, the significance of what we absorbed then.
Even then, things are mixed up, partial, scraps of conversation, snapshots, incomplete.
We try, as we have been trying all our lives, to make something whole from these scraps.
Inside of this jumble, there are things that occupy our thoughts, that we finally realize are important to who we understand ourselves to be.
Finally, we have ourselves.