Deeply experienced things remain, even years later.  The moment, the light, how things smelled, facial expressions, every tiny unverifiable detail is contained in the memory.

I remember sitting on a stone bench on a cool evening, watching a gangly puppy’s uncontrollable excitement as he discovered the delights of eating deer shit.  “Let’s not mention this to her,” my friend says, laughing, raising a shot of excellent scotch.

Painful experiences are also in there, no doubt.  The blessing is that the beautiful experiences, though sometimes more subtle, more elusive, are just as strong as the other kind.