Memories...

[Srbo]

Roland,

my friend, I don`t have a ball to look at, while rememebering...nor do I try to, like you had to...
At least in the fiction of The Gunsliger that created you...so you stay alive for the ones that have read about you and tapped their throat three times in order to honor you...and what you represent...

The last of your kind.


Steve, man, where do you come up with...?

Yeah, yeah, sorry. One word at the time, right.

This is no novel, though. These are just memories. Roland would say
" Gone Days, Gunslingers! " and yet he would rememeber Susan, Cuthberg and Alain...

Don`t we all have them for friends ?
In real life, their names are different..but we had them, or at least thought we had them at one point or another...

In my when, those friends took a gun in their hands...and aimed and shot...in your then, my when didn`t matter...except for the fireworks on CNN...or not.

Cold hands on warm hearts - which is it going to be ?
The man who has two left shoes on two right feet, or the one walks barefoot all the time ?

I was a boy once, with dreams...and they didn`t sound anything like this...

Yes, Sai, the World moves on...and I often refuse to move on with it...

Prefer to stumble...and be blind in darkness that`s around me anyway...or not...

There were once some poeple living in that place...Peulje, it was called ( pronunced P-a-youll-e )...

That had dreams like this...

But I don`t think there is anyone to dream like that, in that place...anymore...

[michal]

Dear Srbo

I often think that a good memory is a curse and no one feels its sweet-bitter sting better than those of us who are doomed to remember everything, including the people we once were and could have been.

[Srbo]

Michal,

that statement is a slam dunk.
A dagger right into my heart.

Beautiful.
And true.

Thank you.

[boogerb53]

Memories can also be like an old friend, coming when you least expect them, warming your heart...easing your pain....making you smile when you least feel like smiling. Even painful memories serve the beam.....without them, we would not be the complete person we are today.

[Roseasharn]

Our memories serve more than just ourselves.
If you remember someone, one person, a group of people, even if they are gone, they have their immortality.
It is a huge responsibility to be the one left behind to tell the stories. Sometimes a heavy burden. But it is an honor, too.
It wasn't until my daughter was old enough on the anniversary of the terrible day that my godmother was killed to say:
Mama, who is that? She pretty!
That I really understood this. I held the picture out to her and said "This is your Aunt Michele"
1 person or thousands. We keep them with us. Maybe if we tell the story, we touch one person.
One person doesn't blot out the life of a bright and beautiful person by driving recklessly.
One person watches CNN and says, hey, wait a minute. Maybe they question what they are seeing.
My daughter "remembers" stories about a woman she never met.
Your daughter will "remember" stories about people she's never met, too.
And maybe one day they will be a part of a force for better things in this world.

But they'll need the stories.

[Gillie]

Srbo -
you have such a mastery of words. (Does that make sense?)

Everytime I read something that you've posted, I can feel a tug in my heart.

I could never imagine what you've experienced in your life, but your soul shows through in your words.

[Becks19]

Srbo -
you have such a mastery of words. (Does that make sense?)

Everytime I read something that you've posted, I can feel a tug in my heart.

I could never imagine what you've experienced in your life, but your soul shows through in your words.

Gillie, what a nice thing to say.

[Srbo]

Thank you everybody for contributing to this, to some, maybe a little confusing thread.

[pepino]

Srbo-

You speak of rememberance, but also the loss of dreams, hopes, and aspirations. I find memory to be bittersweet at best. Even the best of times are remembered with a tinge of sorrow because they no longer are. Maybe it is a blessing or a curse, but more than that, it is a survival mechanism that we possess long-term memory in which to use as a reference point for future experiences.