many things we know more in memory than life. then life is memory and memory life, and when we die or lose our memory we are remembered as someone's memory and maybe many memories dispersed, and who knows? gathering elsewhere, indefinitely. if we have lived well we will be remembered well. walking around the promontory yesterday we talked of dad and how it was fraught between us, we didn't share a lot, and at the same time we shared everything unspoken, and after he died it was a release, and i was able to talk to him with myself, more as i would have in life, if i could have. i could now, because i know he's in me, and i'm his living memory. i'm not his memory really, i'm my own, plus all the memories that were not expressed, that may have transmitted inarticulately through our familiar cells. this could be the afterlife, life and after.