life can be likened and metaphorically described to most if not anything. a canvas, a jigsaw puzzle, a box of chocolates, and so on and so forth as the list could go as far as the mind can go. and with that, a close loved one shared certain thoughts, experiences and teachings that was deemed gold worthy, or perhaps to some, just all of two cents.
it was heard that night, that one brings nothing with one into this world, and that one can bring nothing with one when one leaves this world. yet, when one leaves, one can leave with riches beyond one's wildest dreams. that bountiful chest of treasury, is one's memories, solely known and belonging to that one person, and the people who were involved in the making of that particular memory at that certain point of time.
the memory need not be spectacular, nor did it need to have too much meaning, nor overtly special. being the pot of optimism, of course the close loved one had to add that there has to be an elemental ladleful of happiness and joy, though of course, needless to say, it ain't always quite the case.
there was no particular disagreement with this reasoning for it did have its valid merits. it just so happened that it was and is non applicable in the life that is mine. and with what little wool gathering that was done that night, the conclusion was that a memory just needed to have a little meaning, and a whole gunny sackful of emotion.
with being born on the other extreme end of the spectrum, the blunt, but true, words that were quietly uttered with a smile that greying and misty night, in return, were cruelly brutal. a splash of cold water??? quite indeed to any other who does not know me any better. and a thunderstorm with frigidly wintry winds if might add. in a blur, it just is.