My mother made me understand that when you have a true friend, you can share the most intimate of thoughts even after being many years apart. She showed me how, if you really have a connection with someone, you can reminisce and feel the same as you did in the early years of your friendship.
And all these memories you share with someone are not a way of living in the past, as some people may think, but glorified moments that you need to keep alive. And what better way of keeping memories alive than story telling?
Oh, those wonderful and magical stories about my mother's childhood and her teenage years... Those lively, digressing and colorful stories that I could tell by heart as if I had experienced them myself. How could one not fall in love, if not with the characters, but with the romance of it all?
I would like to dedicate this post to my mother and her beautiful and magical world.
1 comment:
People will always complain about something . Very seldom have I heard them speak about the beautiful moments in their lives, and when they do, they manage to belittle them by comparing them to something small and insignificant. Because what could be more important than the moments that made you happy, even for a tiny second? Love shouldn't be stated in a sentence, it should be practiced incessantly and unconditionally.
Thank you for the post!
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