I thought about the days i had handed over to a bottle..the nights i can't remember..the mornings i slept thru..all the time spent running from mysel… - Mitch Albom

In the water’s reflection she saw only loving scenes from her childhood, countless memories, her mother kissing her good night, unwrapping a new toy, plopping whipped cream onto pancakes, putting Annie on her first bicycle, stitching a ripped dress, sharing a tube of lipstick, pushing a button to Annie’s favorite radio station. It was as if someone unlocked a vault and all these fond recollections could be examined at once.
Why didn't I feel this before? she whispered. Because we embrace are scars more than our healing, Lorraine said. We can recall the exact day we got hurt, but who remembers the day the wound was gone?

It was sad, the imbalance of it all. Why do kids assume so much from one parent and hold the other to a lower, looser standard?

No soul remembered is ever really gone.