Between the pages of a leather bound novel, I keep pieces of my past. A flower from a first date, that has long since dried from being pressed between faded parchment . A picture of a first child, so small and frail, that has grown up to be a healthy and strong young adult. A bubblegum wrapper whose content was used to fix a broken heel on our wedding day. All special bits and pieces of a life well lived, between the pages of a quiet book, that I revisit from time to time as I look through my book of memories that is so much an intricate part of my life.