Looking through photos from the past,
photos that I didn't know existed.
Tattered pieces of memories flooding
into my head,
but I can only remember some of it,
as if each of my memories
were a puzzle
with several pieces missing.
The things I can remember,
they're the little things,
the crisp smell of the early winter,
the softness of my worn pink jacket,
the long log that I used as a balance beam,
sitting quietly with my family,
a tub of fries that were perfectly spiced,
the feeling of excitement,
and I just wonder,
after all this time,
why do I remember those small things?
moments that I didn't think were important
when they happened
are the things I remember
the building blocks of who I am today.
And I've realized,
that it isn't the huge things that effect our life greatly,
its the little memories,
that build on top of one another,
that's what makes us who we are,
they're the things we'll remember for ever.