In the past week, as I have once again been packing up my worldly belongings to move, I’ve gotten sidetracked a couple of times by old photo albums and other memorabilia, and remembrances of the people connected to them.

So many of those people are gone now, making the memories bittersweet. Rather than fading with time, however, the pangs associated with the losses lie dormant just below the surface, waiting to be revived by a picture, a word, or a thought.

Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy — not one of my favorite people, but a force to be reckoned with in her time — said it well:

“It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.”

She was right; it is never gone. It does give me hope, though, that I too will one day be remembered in the same way.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
6/23/26