1.0PoohsDenhttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsdenVinithahttps://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/author/pooh_admin/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="jd05XVqeOD"><a href="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/memories/">Memories</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/memories/embed/#?secret=jd05XVqeOD" width="600" height="338" title="“Memories” — PoohsDen" data-secret="jd05XVqeOD" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://www.ourowncorner.com/poohsden/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> Every year around this time, I make myself type into words what I feel. I think it is the best I document what I feel least I forget. Every year it is a whine and anger that manifests into words and behind that anger is the love. Last year, I could not follow the annual tradition and I am angry with myself for it. I put myself ahead of someone who meant the world to me. I can give excuses but I know I should have made time. But past is past and this year the annual post in memory of my grandfather is back. This year, I promise not to crib or complain but instead take a look at the memories. The wonderful ones we created. The ones that I am afraid of forgetting. In these 6 years there has been a lot of changes and time fades memories. No memories do not disappear they become liquid and we add colors to it and make it reflect what we want. This helps us feel better about ourselves and that we really have not forgotten our loved ones but they are there somewhere in our version of memories. I do […]