The power of the heart is an awesome thing. It is last to forget. When we have lost all words to describe, the heart still remembers. When we have forgotten what it looked like, the heart still remembers what it felt like.
Sometimes that doesn’t feel like much of a blessing. The heart keeps us feeling things we think we wish we could forget. And maybe that is a disadvantage of the heart, I don’t know for sure.
I do know this, though, my heart remembers the people I loved. My heart remembers the joy of my children. My heart holds my memories and therein, they live on.
Sometimes, that can be sad, but mostly the memories that live on in our hearts are a blessing to us. Oddly enough sometimes, that goes double for the remembrances that come to us with sadness.
(For my brother Kenny, born this day in 1958, who passed in 1996)