dementia is a sad thing, though some things it would be a relief to forget. i don't know what determines what becomes a memory and what becomes a forgotten one, and what ghosts perhaps forgotten memories leave. i often remember best humiliating things best forgotten. but what we remember if uncomfortable must be something we may learn from. and it's quite usual for me to forget my nightly dreams. ah, but sixty-five years on i'm pleased to say i'm still the same daydreamer that merited the teacher's comments on my elementary report card.