There will be nights where we let ourselves be pushed by memories. Some bitter, some sad, and others sweet. But ultimately, we are but audience to our own memories. As some scenes acted out, I longed so badly to scream for it to cut; to alter the course of events, but it will all be futile.

A river will always flow towards the ocean, never backwards. So does time.

“I am a slow walker, but I never walk backwards.” – Abraham Lincoln

It is hard enough to advance forward and not be caught by the inertia of the past and unhealthy memories. But then there is the choice of walking forward slowly or to run. If we were to walk too slowly, do we have enough time to complete our journey? But if we were to run, will we collapse from exhaustion before our time?

It is a frustrating decision to make. I guess that is why there are nights where we just let ourselves be absorbed by memories of the past, and maybe even allow ourselves to be drowned.

We watched the drama of memories play out, not unlike the watching of television programs. Trying with every ounce of our energies to seek out hope and to seek the positives of the things that had come to passed. To learn that even with all the grief in the world, there is a chance of a cheery conclusion.