I thought about Memory today. I came across a writeup on Mnemosyne, the mother of the nine muses of Greek mythology. I once called Memory "Mnemosyne" in a letter I wrote to her. She thought that was clever. I wondered, how did her parents, who were simple country people, come up with a name like that? I was fascinated by her. I could not understand why she thought I was worthy of her company. I probably was in love with her at one time, but I think I subconsciously decided that I would rather keep her as a friend than mess it up with my feeble attempts at a "relationship". She had sweet kisses, a zest for life, and a smile that just made you feel happy inside. And I told her so, in a song I wrote for and sang for her.

Like so many of the friends I never see any more, I really miss Memory. How can we go through life every day and take the people we love for granted?