The fog of time is often absolute. It tends to envelop everything that is past. We learn to live in the present and worry about the future. We forget things beyond yesterday.
And then once in a while, the fog lifts. For that one split second, one sees the path one has taken. A path strewn with laughter and sadness, with friends and fighting, with everything that has brought us where were. Little things. Great things. Precious things.
Leave a Comment