Memories are very precious to people’s lives. They give us the opportunity to prove to ourselves that we exist, and if we lose them, we have an unrelenting fear of uncertainty.
You must listen to me, the humans that are living here and now in the present are made of more than just memories of the past. I myself don’t even know who I am; I don’t have a single solitary memory about myself, but I don’t believe anyone took them from me. I most likely erased them of my own free will. I was the one who made that choice, I made it for myself; so I can live in the present and the future, because I must go on believing there is a me!
Angel! I know that I will never lose the you that is now a part of my memories. The you that met me and the conviction you had in what you felt you needed to do. The you that loved yourself more than anyone else ever could. I’ll never forget this woman named Angel who once loved herself, yet was filled with such a doubt. You must stop denying your own existence; you have to live as a human being.
Roger Smith, The Big O
To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward.
— Margaret Fairless Barber, The Roadmender