[ WP ] `` Memories are power , my boy . They dwell in everything ; in rocks , in chimpanzees , in the bones of long-dead gods . Use this power well . ''

A single memory of a single object. Or sound. Or smell. Or place. Can tell you a whole story with almost limitless descriptive details and nuances that are the living poetry of life. Like how a waterfall can make me think of a scared but love-bearing red headed girl from Alabama. Or how a once empty bottle of Hubert's Lemonade, now filled with cigarette ash and smoke, reminds me of a blonde haired/blue-eyed heart breaker from Sweden. Or even how a shelf of liquor can make me reminisce of these lovely ladies individually or both simultaneously. 
 
 I remembered all these things, not just the women, although they were my favorite to run through my mind, and it was equally reliving and intimidating. It was a power people take for granted so easily. To retain a moment in time, that will last forever as long as someone is around to still remember it actually happened. In this sense, nothing ever actually dies, it moves onto some other realm of existence. It is the most powerful force in the universe, and when someone loses that power, you can feel them lose themselves too. Because what are we without the memories we hold? Empty sea shells drifting onto the beach shores of eternal limbo. 
 
 This was my great grandmother. A lost sea shell. And where I once saw bright shining lights in her eyes, were now dead stars in the night sky. She lost her power, but I still had mine. And I would see her each and every day while she lost her way. I'd reinvigorate her with that power she once had. I'd tell her those stories I still held dearly in my heart. She relived moments she thought she had lost forever, or did n't know existed to begin with. This was my one super power, and I cherish it for each moment I still have it, to help the living remember what was forgotten, and to help the forgotten dead that they can be remembered.
