toast to memories

I have a wooden box filled with many unremarkable and worthless greeting cards, stamps, small notes, letters and childish baubles, and this box is my "what would you take with you if there is a fire" mentality It will be taken away in the test questions. Because that box contains my memories. Open the wooden box, a small piece of paper, a gadget, a simple greeting card, all accompanied by a memory. The older you get and the more you experience it, the easier it is to forget the past, but something that belongs to the past will always act like a switch that opens up your hidden memories. Every time I go home, I find something unexpected. For example, an unsent greeting card and letter in a book, for example, some paintings on the inner pages of a novel in the book, for example, a half-written diary, these unexpected The discovery will instantly bring you back to the memory that you have long forgotten, smiling, recalling the people and things at that time, recalling the state of mind at that time. It's like meeting your past self, looking at it, and being able to smile and say to her: I'm doing fine now. Really, my heart is getting quieter and more stable, and I even forget those lonely and gloomy times.

Finally, no longer hiding alone in the dark night in the stairwell on the top floor thinking of you and shedding tears, no longer waking up in a late night nightmare with open eyes waiting for the dawn, no longer listening to my heartbeat running in the empty campus in the early morning, I don’t hurt myself anymore because of the depression that I can’t get rid of… I don’t like to dream so much anymore, I’m not so imaginative, I’m not so eccentric, and those volcanic impulses that once surged in my heart gradually subsided. It became clearer and clearer that, after all, she was an ordinary woman in the world and should have the ability to love and be loved.

Oh, these don't seem to have much to do with the "Block House of Memories" that I want to recommend. Occasionally, I saw this animation, a 12-minute short film, with only music and flowing pictures, but after watching the fifth minute and 30 seconds, I began to wipe my tears with a tissue. The color of the memories is yellowish, like the dim old photos in the album, like the lights with yellow halo in the dark night, but it is very warm. Memories are like building blocks, standing at the top and going down at the end, layer by layer, a period of time, some people, some people, a pipe that fell, he picked it up, she picked it up, stunned, awakened, people were in place, in front of them But she is no longer there. So I opened the door leading to the first memories, layer by layer, a hospital bed that fed her medicine and helped her pull the quilt, and a sofa that was sitting around her wife, son, daughter and grandchild who pressed the shutter but didn't have time to run over and sit down. , a door that opened awkwardly to welcome the boyfriend brought back by the daughter, a window that watched the wife send the little girl running to catch the school boat, a house that was getting smaller and taller and filled with memories, a A tree that bears witness to the love between the two little ones in the memories, a "home" built by two people together, a wine glass full of the fragrance of love and wine, toasting together in the memories, full of smiles, outside the memories, alone, Raise a glass to whoever you invite. At the end of the story, let's pretend you're sitting there, and I toast to the memories.

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