Your memory is a monster; you forget - it doesn't. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you - and summons them to your recall with a will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you! -John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany There are things I'd like to recall, but don't; things I'd like to forget, but can't. My memory is perfectly photographic, but it's taking all the wrong pictures lately. Each moment is remembrance and forgetting. Is there any sense to what we hold on to and what we let go of?