✨KITTING AROUND✨
🌟 BLOG 354 — Good Memories are Worth Any Cost 🌟
By KIT SUMMERS — World-Class Juggler to World-Class Comeback
Once upon a life, I was the guy who made gravity nervous.
A world record of juggling 7 clubs, who would ever think?
Headlining at Ballys in Atlantic City, I had it all.
Life was grand!
Then came the truck, the coma, the darkness…
Thirty-seven days of nothingness.
And yet—here I stand.
Not juggling clubs so much anymore…
Now I juggle purpose, healing, and helping humans.
Rise higher than they ever imagined.
Today, my mission stretches far beyond the stage.
I’m helping people around the world live braver, brighter, better lives—
One insight, one adventure, one spark of courage at a time.
1) THE BEGINNINGS
Throughout this blog, you will see photos from my past travels. Such great memories my travels hold.
Enjoy the read.
💛 (Here’s the secret — “I love you”.)
It’s so great to hear from my friends who like reading my blog.
Each week, this inspires me and gives me a reason to write the next blog post.
“Magnificent, insightful writing, Kit!
You are a fantastic author!”
Larry Zieger (Larry taught high school at Point Loma High in San Diego, where I graduated from in 1977.)
=====
Happy Thanksgiving, Kit…
“I hope you enjoyed that ice cream!”
Chris Foster (I performed with Chris’ brother, Randy, for many years).
=====
“You have been through so much, and yet you continue to inspire others!!! I love every one of your writings and take something (usually MANY things) away from EVERY ONE!!!! Thank you, my friend, for all that you do. I am certain your words AND ACTIONS inspire many others besides just me, even if they don’t write it down or express it. Keep being your positive self; I know it will lead you to better places. Be well, my friend!”
Phyllis May Lynch (Phyllis is the person we bought our house from, and a great friend.)
=====
“I really enjoyed these philosophical musings. And, yes, we all have to, at one time or another, question our own existence on this planet. I think it is essential, and my first psychotherapist, the late, great U. Robert Akeret, said that the truly aware person contemplates suicide at least once in a lifetime. I always find your insight enlightening. I do compare myself to others, but less than I used to. I am on my way to becoming what and where I need to be. You have helped me, and I am grateful, so thank you, Kit!”
Judy Finelli (Judy is an old friend who used to juggle with Hovey Burgess.)
2) THINGS THAT HAPPENED THIS WEEK >>
11/29–Have you started? Ohhh yes, you have—but today’s the day to crank that memory-making machine up to full glitter mode. Because memories are the secret sauce of a meaningful life… and you, my friend, are the master chef with the apron flapping heroically in the wind. 
🎒 Collect Moments Like They’re Hidden Treasure.
Your memories are your greatest treasure.
Reach back, grab your good times, polish them, toss them in the air, and let them rain down like confetti.
Then—make more.
Start today.
Start now.
Start before someone tries to hand you another packet of hospital mashed potatoes
🌱 Tiny Seeds, Big Magic
There you were, Kit Summers, Guardian of the Patio Realm. You were
waging war on cigarette butts like a caped crusader with a grabber stick.
And right next to that?
The tiniest of tiny lettuce seeds.
Little green specks that could easily blow away if someone sneezed.
Yet those specks?
They grow into crisp, healthy, glorious, full-sized lettuce heads bursting with life.
A cosmic wink from Nature herself, saying:
“Hey Kit… tiny beginnings lead to big, crunchy greatness.” 🥬✨
That may go for what I do, too.
🔥 AND THEN–Fire Drill Frenzy (aka The Great Shuffle Outside)
At 2:45 in the afternoon—sirens, alarms, and the monthly “let’s-all-pretend-there’s-a-fire” parade.
The people here remind me of the group in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” in the boat scene.
As I was going out, I grabbed a chair to sit on (I’ve heard I am somewhat smart).
Some without, 12 people in wheelchairs, everyone groaning, shuffling, rolling, wobbling outside…
And then? Yikes–a broken harm.
Right back in. 
No fire.
No smoke.
No roasted marshmallows.
Just another episode of “Why Are We Doing This Again?”
A monumental waste of time…
But hey, you survived another drill. Gold star for you. ⭐
🤔 “What Am I Doing Here?”—The Big Question
Standing among the crowd, you suddenly felt that whisper in your soul:
“Why am I here?
What is happening to my life?
Where’s my glass of wine?” 🍷
Yes—this environment is wearing on you.
Yes—it’s getting harder to swallow.
Yes—you’re craving freedom like a bird staring at an open sky.
But listen…
THIS moment?
This discomfort?
This “what am I doing here?” feeling?
It’s the compost.
The stuff that feeds your next breakthrough.
Lettuce grows from tiny seeds, my friend…
But YOU are growing from these giant, messy challenges.
And someday soon, this chapter will become
—guess what?—
One of the memories worth keeping.
One of the ones you’ll turn into gold.
Keep going, Kit.
Keep noticing.
Keep creating.
Keep cleaning up the patio, planting lettuce, and asking big questions.
You’re not stuck.
You’re rising.
One tiny seed at a time. 🌱✨
11/30–Getting back to life. I just looked through many photos I have of myself in the mountains. This brought back so many great memories. You can only hold so many memories in your head; it is good to have the photos to remind you.
This morning, the guy across the hall from me, Bob, is really moaning and carrying on. It’s agonizing to think of what and how his mind could be thinking. It came to mind this morning that I was living in a crazy house. Me? Here? Yes–it’s happening. Bob’s voice is grating, too.
There are people here, like Bob, who will be here until they die. Not a life that I would want, but some have no choice. People working here do their best until the end. The people working here deserve commendation.
Writing is funny. I’ve never used the word “commended”, but it came to mind as I needed it. Strange how thoughts and memories pop into your mind when you need them (well, most of the time, anyway.) But it is hard when they don’t just pop in, too.
A slow Sunday today.
At 3 p.m., someone was supposed to escort me across the street so I could juggle. They were supposed to yesterday, also, NO ONE SHOWED UP! I checked in with the head nurse today, and he repeated the rule: someone has to go with you. He claimed they had no one “assigned.”
But here’s the truth: I don’t need an escort to cross a quiet, single-lane road. I want to juggle alone! I’ve crossed hundreds of roads since my accident–roads in busy cities, deserts, forests, and national parks. Trust me—I know how to put one foot in front of the other—without a babysitter!
So I said NO.
Not out of rebellion—out of confidence, capability, and self-respect. I know you can’t treat all your patients here the same. I understand how many would not be able to manage going across the street–BUT I CAN!
I CAN HEAR BOB THROUGH THE DOOR! Makes me want to go out for a long walk–but I can’t even do that! I understand that he is going through brain problems, but there is no reason I have to hear it. I did go out to the patio and read for a while.
See Kit, down on that road?
And living in the suite right next to mine, a man who always has to have an escort.
Everywhere he goes–All night, too.
At night, he bangs on the walls and makes noise.
Then, across the way, John walks abnormally. He can pick up his feet; I’ve seen him walk normally. But he slides on his feet as he walks. For some strange reason, this really bugs me. At times, I’ve seen him walk normally. I know he can do it.
Juggling snowballs, what fun! >>>
It can be scary to live here.
Makes me want to go crazy, too.
Where’s the nearest nut farm?
I’m not here to be coddled.
I’m here to live.
And I’m not done juggling yet.
🌅 GOOD MORNING, WORLD—KIT IS ON THE MOVE!
12/1 — The building may still be rubbing the sleep from its eyes, but you, my friend, are already pacing at the starting line, grin in place, spirit humming its favorite tune. The hallways whisper, the lights stretch awake… and here you are, tapping out your truth before the sun even finds its socks.
You don’t just show up—you arrive with intention, curiosity, and that.
A little mischievous spark that says, “Let’s make something happen today.”
🎄 A DAY THAT QUIETLY LIT UP MY SOUL
The Christmas Tree Decorating extravaganza burst onto the scene today—tinsel twinkling, ornaments wobbling,
cheering the flying like confetti from a cannon. Not for me, but some loved it.
And there you stood… the watchful owl, perched high, taking it all in.
You don’t need to join the ornament Olympics this time.
Sometimes the poet watches while the world performs.
Sometimes the storyteller gathers sparkle from the sidelines.
Sometimes wisdom comes from simply observing how people glitter.
💪 10:30 — MUSCLES, WAKE UP!
Then came the real crescendo. First, you two stepped outside to water the garden—your sanctuary, your living poem, your little patch of Earth that grows because you show up for it. Next, Maryann led you through weights, stretches, and that “hello, old friend” burn where strength hides.
You shook your muscles awake like a drummer warming up for a concert: “C’mon now… It’s our time.”
A new machine joined the party—no fireworks, no applause—
But it added another rung to your climb back up.
Rebuilding is a thousand small yeses.
And today, you gave another one.
🌱 11:00 — GARDEN & PUBLIX THERAPY
Terrie arrived next, and before OT even began.
Then—off to Publix for cookie ingredients for next week’s baking.
Look out for the Bisom Stampede.
A therapy session disguised as real life… or maybe real life disguised as therapy.
Either way, you moved through it like someone who has navigated far bigger.
Aisles, far taller mountains, far more challenging recoveries.
Because you have.
🧘♂️ AFTERNOON — THE GENTLE WIDE-OPEN SKY
The rest of the day stretched out like a long, slow exhale—quiet, open, generous.
You spent time with your computer, that glowing doorway where your memories,
Ideas and dreams gather and take wing.
And yes, after waking before even the sun had its first stretch.
You allowed yourself a midday drift—
Not sleep,
Not escape,
Just a soft float on calm waters.
A reset.
A kindness to your body.
Look out for the Deer Stampede
🌟 A FINAL WHISPER FOR THE DAY
Today wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It didn’t wear sequins or shout your name.
But it moved you.
It steadied you.
It nudged you forward.
It was a “keep going, Kit” day.
A quiet victory.
A soft triumph.
The kind of day that builds the bridge to a bright future.
Keep stepping.
Keep shining.
Keep dancing forward.
✨ The world’s still rooting for you. Always. ✨
The guy in the apartment next to mine finally snapped—ripping up walls, shouting, chaos everywhere. Staff said they called the police, but nothing could be done. Someone told me to go back to my room, but I stayed close anyway, protecting a scared young woman. It’s a terrible situation… and it really makes me question why I’m still here.
🎉 12/2 — THE ADVENTURES OF KIT CONTINUE! 🎉
Still scratching my head, I’m wondering what cosmic GPS glitch dropped me here of all places…
But hey, if life hands you confusion, add sprinkles and call it an adventure. 😉
🌼 Morning Group Time with Lilly
We gathered like a flock of slightly confused but well-meaning parrots while Lilly led the show.
She covered a handful of topics I swear we’ve heard before—but she delivered it with enough warmth that it felt like déjà vu with a hug.
And honestly, a “fresh look” never hurts. Sometimes the universe has to bonk us twice so we listen.
🍪 Cookie Shenanigans with Terrie
Then I waited for Terrie—only to find out she’d gone on a mini-expedition to my room.
Once we finally met up, boom: Christmas cookie time.
Yes, Kit Summers, the world-traveling juggler and garden-tending philosopher, is now officially a seasonal baker.
We whipped up cookies we’ll unveil later, like edible little celebrities.
🕒 The Great Walmart Quest
And now?
I’m floating in free time until 3 pm, when I embark on the majestic expedition known as:
Walmart.
Where legends are born, bargains sparkle, and someone will be riding a shopping cart like it’s a scooter. (Maybe me.)
More adventures await… stay tuned, my friend. ✨
12/3—Good morning, bright soul! 🌞
I’m stepping into this day with the kind of determination that makes the universe sit up a little straighter. Today is going to be GREAT—because I said so. And hey, that’s the secret sauce anyway: we each get to shape the day before it even gets a chance to argue.
I peeked at my schedule and—drumroll, please—only one appointment. Speech, 9:30–10. Then… nothing. Wide-open sky. Empty runway. A whole afternoon lounging around like a cat in a sunbeam.
And yes… a part of me wants to shout, “Why am I wasting my time here???”
But another part—the playful, mischievous Kit who refuses to let life dull his sparkle—knows this:
✨ A blank day is not an empty day.
✨ A blank day is a canvas.
✨ And Kit has never been afraid of a big, beautiful canvas.
So I’m choosing to shape this day myself.
If the schedule won’t fill me up, then I’ll pour something extraordinary into it—
writing, dreaming, planning, practicing, laughing, creating, growing.
If they give me nothing, I’ll still make something.
Onward, Kit. Let’s craft a day so good it starts blushing. 🎨💥
12/4–1 A.M.—ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
Right on the dot—exactly 1 a.m.—the fire alarms erupted like some cruel joke from the universe. I shot awake, heart pounding, mind spinning, thinking, “This can’t be real. Not again.” But oh, it was real. EAR-SHATTERINGLY real. The alarms never stopped, and they were so loud.
Suddenly, the whole place was chaos—people stumbling, shuffling, crying, limping, rolling, dragging themselves out into the freezing dark like a parade of pain no one signed up for. And me? I snatched a chair on the way out because I knew the drill: stand around outside, wait, freeze, suffer, then go back inside—AGAIN.
And for what?
No fire.
No smoke.
No danger.
JUST THE SAME OLD REDICULOUS NONSENSE!
AND THIS TOOK PLACE AT 1 AM!
A building full of already hurting humans—forced into the cold, shivering, scared, and confused. A chorus of groans, moans, and frustration filled the night air like some twisted soundtrack of misery. It was heartbreaking. It was infuriating. It was WRONG.
Then came the slow crawl back inside. A single elevator—one—is trying to swallow dozens of people who could barely stand as it is, forget the wheelchairs. Packed bodies, raised voices, more crying, more waiting. All of us jammed into a half-hour nightmare that shredded what little dignity this place pretends to offer.
I’m told that the fire department says it is necessary, so I’ll play along.
From 1:00 to 1:30 a.m., the whole building became a madhouse of unnecessary suffering.
And here’s the part that lights the fire in my chest:
Someone is responsible for this.
Someone pushed a button, neglected a system, failed a duty, or didn’t care enough to prevent this torture.
And yes—this was torture.
I want answers. I want accountability. I want someone to step forward and admit what went wrong and FIX IT so no one ever has to be dragged into this nonsense again. Myles or somebody better dig into this, because people here have endured enough.
Last night wasn’t just inconvenient.
It wasn’t just loud.
It was harmful.
And I’m tired—deep, bone-tired—of watching vulnerable people be treated like their wellbeing is optional. I may not even be able to get back to sleep.
This cannot happen again.
It will not happen again—not quietly, not unnoticed.
Someone needs to be held accountable.
And someone needs to be punished.
Because this… this was too much.
I actually managed to snag a little sleep last night — a tiny victory, but hey, victories come in all sizes. Then morning rolled in and, like a stubborn rerun, it was back to the same ol’, same ol’.
Lilly filled me in: every single shift is required to run a fire drill a few times a year. So yes, the alarms will blare, the chaos will swirl, and all of us will shuffle outside like confused penguins because… rules. Necessary? Maybe. Ridiculous? Absolutely. But here we are — still standing. Still laughing at the absurdity and still rolling forward.
9 a.m. arrived like a drumbeat, calling me into OT with Terrie.
First up: the Wake-a-Mole screen — a game, a challenge, a race against myself. My fingers flew, my mind sharpe
ned, and for a moment, it felt like reclaiming lost ground.
Then we took the magic outside. 🌿
Out to the garden — my sanctuary, my tiny kingdom of green hope. I watered the soil, scattered the brave little lettuce seeds, and felt life stirring under my fingertips. Terrie plucked a tomato straight from the vine and lit up as she’d just tasted sunshine.
Moments like that… they remind me:
Even in a place where alarms scream at 1 a.m., where days blur, and rules pile up —
I can still grow something beautiful.
I can still bring life into the world.
I can still create joy, one seed, one step, one breath at a time.
And you can too!!
And that… that’s power. 🌱🔥
10 AM — THE GREAT CHRISTMAS TREE DODGE OF 2025
Ah, yes, Christmas Tree Decorating! A legendary event of ornaments, glitter, and enough tinsel to blind a small reindeer. They called my name, the crowd gasped, the angels leaned in–And I said, “No, thank you,” with the grace of a man who knows exactly when to exit stage left. A clean dodge. A professional dodge. Olympic-level tree-decorating avoidance. Gold medal awarded. 🥇🎄
11 AM — THE MYSTERIOUS MEMORY LOG QUEST
Then came the hour of destiny: the Memory Log. Cue dramatic music… dun dun dunnnnn.
Technically, this was supposed to be my time to sit and record all the brilliant, chaotic, unforgettable moments of the day. Lilly set it up for me like a quest from a video game: “Kit, you must catch up on your log!”
Little did she know…
I was already caught up.
Oh yes, I’m practically the Memory Ninja of NeuroRestorative. ⚡🧠
Sure, I was tempted—so tempted—to write, “I forgot about this one,” just for the easy laugh. But that joke is too obvious. Too predictable. Too… low-hanging fruit. And Kit Summers does not pick low-hanging fruit unless it’s part of a juggling routine. 🍎🤹♂️
So instead, I powered through, reviewed my notes, gave a nod to the universe, and declared:
“No worries. Mission accomplished.”
The guy in the room next to me, Joey, is busting things up again. Such a troubled mind he has. I think this time they will kick the guy out for good. I feel bad for the guy, but he brought it on himself. Nancy is here, saying, “It’s alright,” with her accent. I told her she needs to call the cops and get them out here before he destroys the place or harms someone.
What could happen to Joey, I don’t know. With his mixed-up thinking, he could do anything. Isolation in jail seems like the direction he is going in. He actually has me scared that he could harm someone — or me! I’ll keep an eye on him and help how I can.
12/5–Today, I met with Maryann, and we walked over to the park to do some juggling. We had a long talk, and she admitted she did not know what to do with me. After the conversation, I agreed with her thoughts. I’ve posted in past blogs about how I was not necessarily getting much help here; she didn’t know what to do. I agreed that I have written some bad words, but that I am benefiting from the therapy I’ve received.
I must be more conscious of what I write; people have helped me tremendously here.
Thank you, Maryann, and the other therapists I have worked with here.
You have helped me more than you know (and more than I know!)
Back to the dentist. The lower retainer they fit me with still hurt when I wore it, so Liz used a handheld grinder to remove some of the material. They are quite comfortable now. The retainer is fitting all right now. I am supposed to remove it each night, a new habit on the way. If you are young, take good care of your teeth; it will pay off later.
3) BLOG 353–Good Memories are Worth Any Cost
✨THE DAY KIT SUMMERS STOPPED SHRINKING✨
Life is like an unpredictable carnival ride—twisting curves, surprising drops, glowing lights, and the occasional sugary treat that sticks to your fingers. Throughout all of it, there’s one treasure we hold close like shiny marbles: our memories.
The phrase “Good Memories are Worth Any Cost” suggests that the value of happy memories outweighs the financial or personal costs of creating them, because memories are a priceless, enduring source of joy and comfort that can’t be taken away.
While material possessions can lose value, experiences and the memories they create can grow more precious over time, offering lasting emotional benefits such as increased confidence and life satisfaction. You must hold on to your memories; photos can help.
Some memories feel like warm sunlight sliding across your shoulders. Others sparkle like fireworks you can still hear echoing in your heart. And some—oh some are the kind that turn an ordinary Tuesday into a lifetime treasure. These memories shape us, lift us, heal us, and whisper comfort when the world feels too heavy.
For you, Phyllis, your grandchildren are the best memories you can have!
🌈 The True Value of a Memory
A good memory isn’t just a replay of the past. It’s emotional nutrition.
It’s a reminder that joy once lived in your bones… and can return.
It’s psychological armor—protecting us during the storms,
Proving we’ve survived, laughed, loved, and danced even when
life tried to throw stink bombs.
🔬Scientists will talk about neural pathways and dopamine spikes.
But at the heart of it all is something beautifully human:
We crave meaning.
Good memories give us meaning.
Like little postcards from our soul saying, “Hey… you lived well today.”
🌟 The Regret Equation
People don’t regret “too many good memories.”
They regret the memories they didn’t make.
The chances they talked themselves out of.
The trips they postponed.
The words they never said.
The risks they avoided because safety felt easier.
Please don’t do this to yourself.
Here’s the magical truth: Good memories are worth any cost.
Memories are the golden currency of a life well-lived—those shimmering little time-capsules that refuse to fade, even when everything else does. They outlast houses, cars, trophies, jobs, and all the “stuff” we pile up like overeager squirrels.
But good memories? The warm ones? The ones that glow like campfire embers long after the flames go out? Ahh… those are priceless. And strangely enough, they’re often the cheapest to create—and the most expensive to live without.
🌟 Why They Matter So Much
Good memories serve as emotional fuel. When life feels like a tightrope walk, and the winds are strong, they keep us steady. They remind us that joy exists, that connection is genuine, and that laughter is possible even after loss. They help us endure, rebuild, and rise again and again.
In times of recovery, heartbreak, challenge, or confusion, a single sweet memory can serve as a lifeline. A hug you didn’t expect. A sunny walk you didn’t realize you’d miss: a shared meal, a shared smile, a moment of being truly seen.
Memories are not just souvenirs; they are the scaffolding of our lives.
💛 The Price We Pay
Do good memories cost us something?
Absolutely.
They cost time.
They cost vulnerability.
They cost us the courage to say yes to experiences, even when staying home seems safer.
They cost the courage to love, to leap, to laugh loudly—even when Life has bruised us.
Sometimes they even cost heartbreak—because good memories are often linked to people or chapters that eventually change, end, or drift away (like Anita). But letting fear of loss stop us from creating beauty is like refusing to plant flowers because winter is coming.
The joy still matters.
The blooming still counts.
The memory is worth it.
Good memories are such a personal thing. All the photos I’m sharing in this blog are “MY” memories. You will have your own, which, of course, will be different from mine. These memories I have are on this computer; once I am dead and gone, all my memories will be gone, too. That’s life–and death.
🌻 The Return on Investment:
Good memories keep giving back for the rest of our lives. They pop into our minds like joy during difficult days. They make us smile when no one’s watching. They soften storms. They make us gentler, wiser, more alive.
Memories are the currency of a meaningful life.
When you’re eighty (or, in your case, Kit—at least 100-plus 😉), you won’t be counting dollars—you’ll be counting stories. You’ll cherish the times you showed up, the times you took chances for joy, the times you said yes to living fully. You will have your memories no matter how much money you acquire.
Because in the end, long after the moment passes, the memory remains…
And good memories are worth any cost.
Save all your good memories.
The saying “Good Memories are Worth Any Cost” means that the joy and value of cherished memories outweigh any cost to create them, whether time, money, or effort. Memories are priceless, timeless treasures that provide comfort, build confidence, and foster a sense of continuity and meaning in life. This is because their value can grow over time, unlike most physical possessions, and they are a source of constant joy and inspiration.
When your days are running low, and your story is short.
Reaching its last chapters, you won’t count your money.
You’ll count your moments.
Your adventures.
Your love.
Your juggling.
Your bravery.
Your laughter.
Your joy.
🌈 1. Memories are Wisdom in Bite-Size Snacks.
Life lessons don’t always need a three-hour lecture.
Sometimes all you need is to play.
“This too shall pass.”
Just like your whole mission in life, Kit.
In fact, you are a walking quote machine.
A human sparkler.
A comeback story wrapped in stardust.
And you’ll whisper to yourself…
“Yes. Every good memory was worth any cost.”
Now go out there, my friend, and collect more.
Life is offering them like candy.
Grab a handful. 🍬💛
🎉 The Final Word
If you have a chance today to make a memory—seize it.
If you can choose between comfort and adventure—lean toward adventure.
If you can offer kindness, humor, bravery, or love—do it wholeheartedly.
The following quotes will help
4) 🔥 A FEW SPARKS TO SLIP INTO YOUR POCKET
✨ THE MAGIC OF QUOTES ✨
Quotes are tiny magic lanterns—glimmers of wisdom that light our way. They contain big truths in small packages, offering comfort, clarity, and courage when we need it most. A single line can steady a trembling heart, clarify a foggy thought, or remind us to keep moving toward our dreams with a whisper that says, “Keep going—there’s more ahead.”
“Make your great memories now while you can.
Eventually, sorry to say, you will be gone.
Good memories are a special gift just for you.”
~ Kit Summers
“But memory is an autumn leaf that murmurs.
A while in the wind and then is heard no more.”
~ Khalil Gibran
“Don’t plan it all.
Let life surprise you a little.”
~ Julia Alvarez
“The fun stuff comes when someone is not so strict.
On sticking to the script. You’re allowed the spontaneity,
And excellent moments can happen.”
~ Jennifer Aniston
“I am hopelessly in love with a memory.
An echo from another time, another place.”
~ Michel Foucault
I Loved my Camping and Fires
“Sweet is the memory of distant friends.
Like the mellow rays departing the sun.
It falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.”
~ Washington Irving
“Music, at its essence, is what gives us memories.
And the longer a song has existed in our lives,
The more memories we have of it.”
~ Stevie Wonder
“Most of our childhood is stored not in photos,
but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells,
and textures of carpet.”
~ Alain de Botton
“Sometimes it only takes one song.
to bring back a thousand memories.”
~ Unknown
“Words are tears that have been written down.
Tears are words that need to be shed.
Without them, joy loses all its brilliance,
And sadness has no end.”
~ Paulo Coelho
“I knew that looking back on the tears would make me laugh,
But I never knew that looking back on the laughs would bring tears.”
~ Unknown
“The butterfly counts not months.
but moments, and has time enough.”
~ Rabindranath Tagore
“Scars have the strange power to
Remind us that our past is real.”
~ Cormac McCarthy
“A good memory is one trained to forget the trivial.”
~ Clifton Fadiman
“Life is all memory except for the one present moment.
That goes by so quickly you can hardly catch it going.”
~ Tennessee Williams
“Focus on the good memories, discard the not-so-good.
Do not dwell on them for a moment.
Be too busy making new memories!”
~ Catherine Pulsifer
“Memories sharpen the past;
It is reality that decays.”
~ Siddhartha Mukherjee
“A person’s memory is everything, really.
Memory is identity. It’s you.”
~ Stephen King
“No matter how far we travel,
the memories will follow in the baggage car.”
~ August Strindberg
“Memory is a record of your personal experience.
It is a record of trial and error, defeat, and success.
Past failures will warn you against repeating them.”
~ Wilfred Peterson
“The heart’s memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good.”
~ Gabriel García Márquez
“Life brings so much yet takes it away so suddenly.
And, at the time of death,
what we are left with is shared friendship and memories.”
~ Byron Pulsifer
“A good life is a collection of happy memories.”
~ Dennis Waitley
5) YOUR CHALLENGE THIS WEEK >>
🌈 LET’S DUST OFF THAT OLD MEMORY BOX… 🌈
BRING BACK THOSE GREAT MEMORIES!
Think back to your youth—yes, that magical time when the world seemed bigger, brighter, and full of wild possibilities. Do you still carry those moments inside you? The laughter, the adventures, the mischief, the love? They are still yours. They haven’t left. They just needed a little sunshine. They can return!
As you move forward, be intentional.
Create moments worth remembering.
Gather joy the way a kid collects shiny rocks.
Make memories so good they tap you on the shoulder years from now and whisper,
“Hey… remember this? Wasn’t life beautiful?”
Because it is.
And you deserve to hold onto every sparkling piece of it. 💛
======
6) NEXT WEEK>>
BLOG 354 ― You Still Matter!
🌟7) Final Thoughts 🌟
Because the best is always still ahead.
So juggle joy like it’s the air you breathe.
The horizon holds more than you can yet imagine.
Your present moment is not the finish line—it’s your starting block.
Chase sunsets as if they’re secret treasures waiting just for you.
Laugh so loudly that tomorrow leans in to listen.
Live as though you’ve only just begun—
BECAUSE YOU TRULY HAVE!
