I had lunch with my sister the other day and, as we often do, we talked about growing up together. I am always surprised that our memories are so different. She’ll say, “Do you remember…” I’ll say, “No, but do you remember…: and she’ll say, “No.” Then we’ll laugh, and together we reconstruct our childhood. Then there are the times that we remember the event, but differently. What then?
Kristy S. Champagne says:
Miriam Serman says: