Memories can be such precious blessings. Figuratively speaking, they can indeed be unseen angels that comfort us when we mourn, inspire us when we are discouraged, and teach us when we desperately need knowledge and wisdom.
But, memories can also be loathsome curses. Figuratively speaking, they can be unseen demons that bring us down when we ought to be on top of the world, wet blankets that extinguish our zeal when we should be full of enthusiasm and hope, and faulty guides that doom us to repeat the mistakes of the past when we desperately need to be raising the bar for the next generation.
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