In Memorabilia

Someone, who had once been very close to me had said, in exactly the words-

"What matters, are memories."

I'd asked "And why do they matter?"

"Because, My Love, nothing else matters."

My query was- "I wonder what matters at the end of it all (at the end of life, or maybe a lifetime)."

At that particular time of definition, I hadn't completely understood that. Memories? What's the big deal with them? How do they exactly come in picture at the end of it all?

And then, Realization dawned.

It's not as if I'm on the edge of my lifetime on this planet. Although it could be the edge of a phase of my life. That phase, that little phase, known as Commitment, Happiness and Fulfillment. Was it too good to be true?

And now I realize how memories matter. They're indulgence now. They're the only best parts of my life at the moment and I wish never to part with them.

They hold those Golden Precious moments that might never happen again. Maybe THAT'S their unique property- Memories hold moments in suspension. Moments that might never happen again. They might be irreplaceable. They, undoubtedly, are irreversible.

And, at the end of it all, What matters are memories. We have memories of good times spent with dear ones and we may shut our eyes with a grateful smile.

What if we have memories that are too vague to be categorized? Would it result in a confused death, after a confused lifetime? Imagine dead bodies bearing a confused expression on visage. (And imagine yourself in that position). THAT would be a painful way of bidding farewell.

Applying memories in our daily lives after their description during the end of it all,
(I'm trying to show mathematical logic)

What if we live in memories? Like living in fantasy. Like living in our own world. Like living in the past.

Would it really be harmful if it gives us happiness?