Where Does Your Memory Go?
I was once asked the question,
“Where does your memory go?
When you can’t remember who you are,
Or what you know?
Where does your memory go?”
“I don’t really know,”
I said with a smile,
“Does it bother you to think
That one morning you might forget
Who you are or where you parked the car?”
There was silence.
“No, I think I would be sad
If I couldn’t remember my my family.
If I couldn’t remember their names.
If I wanted to sing a song
Or recite a poem
Or dance a waltz
Or tell you that I love you.
And when I couldn’t remember,
I wouldn’t know what I forgot.”
“But I would know,” I said,
“And I would miss your stories and your laugh.”
“I will always try to laugh, then,”
came the reply,
“For laughter needs no memory,
Only someone to laugh with me.”