Nostalgia bears the weight of the soul. It provokes a hazy, misty-eyed recollection of events softly filtered by time and perspective. But that was before the uncertainty. The world has been turned upside down. Sixty days or six weeks ago is just as heartbreaking as several decades past. There is no constant anymore, except for sorrow.
Mental photographs now bear ambiguous time stamps: the last time we did this or the last time we went there. These are not sepia-tinted memories, but brilliant and painful. We were flying too close to the sun and we see clearly what we lost.
Mental photographs now bear ambiguous time stamps: the last time we did this or the last time we went there. These are not sepia-tinted memories, but brilliant and painful. We were flying too close to the sun and we see clearly what we lost.
