As January gives way to February my emotions take a dive. I get into the state where I feel helpless and lost. But it is the months of January – March I hit the bottom. 9 years of doing just that. I get bombarded with memories and they overwhelm me.

I was working and suddenly I remembered the books. I frantically took to Google and came up with sites that sell the book. I looked at the maroon and orange cover for a long time, lost in my memories. I am not strong enough to write about my memories around your books. I am just not ready to share them. They are mine. Only mine. Not this year. Maybe in a few years I will be strong enough to deal with it.

I recently read this quote and it got me thinking – how different are my memories from what was reality? How much have I changed them to suit myself?

We now know that memories are not fixed or frozen, like Proust’s jars of preserves in a larder, but are transformed, disassembled, reassembled, and recategorized with every act of recollection.

And then I read what J.K Rowling says ” You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?”