It struck me the other day that I live in a ghost town now that I'm so aged. Memories of bygone days filter through my mind as I go through my day and many of the figures in those memories have passed away. I can still see them clearly smiling happily and not knowing their time on earth is running out.
I went through my Swedish weaving blog yesterday and ran across photos of friends who have passed and they looked so healthy and alive. It always amazes me how that vitality can just disappear. I guess it's the same feeling we all get when we look at old photos of friends or relatives who have died.
Some people leave a stronger imprint than others and a few of them haunt my memories but in a good way. I always question where they've gone because, in this vast universe, they must be somewhere.
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