To remember is to restore. To return to one’s memories, particularly the painful ones, is to revisit a place of holy ground. It is to return to the breaking ground and the winnowing field. In drear nighted December John Keats, 1817   In drear nighted December,      Too happy, happy tree,  Thy branches ne’er remember      Their green felicity— The north cannot undo them  With a sleety whistle … Continue reading Waiting to Remember