Memories of a time gone by where everything seemed different but warmer, more welcoming as if it were a comforting hug.

The memory remains vivid in our minds and resurfaces in small daily gestures, in every breath we take, it is part of us. A tear streaks the face.

A wrinkle. A smile, shy and hidden. Always accompanying us is the desire to go back there, in that precise moment of an era now gone by, when an embroidered cloth handkerchief represented a strong sense of belonging, dried a tear, of joy or sadness, dabbed a wound after a fall.

Good things pass, they say. I can’t disagree with them, but the memory will always remain in my heart.

Memories of a time gone by where everything seemed different but warmer, more welcoming as if it were a comforting hug. The memory remains vivid in our minds and resurfaces in small daily gestures, in every breath we take, it is part of us.