seek and you shall find
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There’s a certain pleasure that comes from remembering something or someone. Sometimes it only takes a half-remembering but the rush is the same. Whether the memory is good or bad or hilarious or embarrassing (its moral scorecard value which tends to change if you’re becoming more human and not just getting older) holds no power over that initial surge of flat-out relief that there’s more to life than the here-and-now, that there was a there-and-then and something was there or someone was then and sometimes that was you, alive and knocking around in life’s vast storehouse of beauty.