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I get sentimental.  It’s true.  I think about days past, about the people and places that have been a part of my life, about the ups and downs, the great events and the lowest moments.  I think about memories.

I have spent my hours on some misbegotten dreams, and I have spent my money on some foolish-hearted things, and I have spent my memories on old and bitter wine.  –
Robert Earl Keen, Jr., I Would Change My Life

When I look back, I see so much devastation.  There are memories of my children.  There are beautiful and scenic vacation vistas.  There are big rainbow trout at the end of a fly line.  There are Christmases and fireworks.  Lots of good things.  Yet, I think back on my memories as misbegotten dreams, as foolish-hearted things, as old and bitter wine.

Maybe it’s because my wounds of recent pains still hurt so bad.  Maybe I am pessimistic and just don’t want to believe it.  Maybe it’s because some people around me seem to have little hope at times or remember the good things as the roads not traveled.

I hope time and prayer and faith and good friends will help my thought of memories change.  I hope to remember the bad times as learning experiences and see the good things I’ve taken from them.  I’m not there yet.  Maybe tomorrow.

Grace and peace.

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