That is me...cropped image from a picture taken of my 2nd grade/standard class -- circa 1977.
Time is a cruel thief to rob us of our former selves. We lose as much to life as we do to death." - Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey
Or to quote Marcel Proust (from Swann's Way), it is....
...as though one's life were a series of galleries in which all the portraits of any one period had a marked family likeness, the same (so to speak) tonality.
And yet it is different; remembered now more through photographs than any actual memory of those times.

To quote Proust again:
The places that we have known belong now only to the little world of space on which we map them for our own convenience. None of them was ever more than a thin slice, held between the contiguous impressions that composed our life at that time; remembrance of a particular form is but regret for a particular moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive, alas, as the years.
And so it goes...

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