I have a lot of memories that are good. I have a lot of memories that are not good.

I write down the good. And in the process more and more small details of wonderful little episodes come out. The smell of a place long gone. The sound of the highway outside my grandparent’s house. Walks in the woods with my family when I was a child. Yesterday.

I write down the bad. And in the process, I get them out of me and write my truth. Some of the worst memories I cannot yet write about. My parents fighting. My relationships. Yesterday.

Memories can be warm comfort.

Memories can be cold misery.

They both can teach us as we make new memories.