We can only remember things that we once knew.

I’ve been to a couple of funerals lately of people that I thought I knew reasonably well and listening to the eulogies I’ve started to wonder if I ever really knew them at all.

But I can only remember them the way I knew them. These new facts may be interesting but they don’t seem to quite belong to my memories.

Why is it that we wait until people are dead before publicising good things about them?

How well do we really know the people that we think we know?


About Rosalie Squires

'Who am I?' is a question whose answer keeps evolving, that can be answered in many, many ways; that has no known answer at all. But there are some clues to be found: stocksharpsquires.wordpress.
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