Sunday, May 13, 2012

Concoction of truths

 Every year, the memories I have of my father become more faint,unclear and distant. Once they were vivid and true, then they became like photographs, and now they are more like photographs of photographs. But sometimes, at rare moments, a memory of him will return to me with such suddenness and clarity that all the feeling I've pushed down for years springs out like a jack-in-the-box.
-Nicole Krauss

This I can relate to. I miss my mom.
Love. Cherish before you regret.
Happy Mother's Day.

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