Is love ever different in a different time? Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote about love in the time of Cholera, but isn’t love really the same, any time you are lucky enough to find it? Doesn’t it escape time and most of the parameters we put on things in time? When you look back, doesn’t an old love conjure up the same wonderful memories as it did when it happened? Or at least a warm smile that spreads sweetly across your face without your realizing it?

I have recently been in contact with some old loves. Being single, this will bother no one in my present, but the memories are very important to me. They point out the course of the river of my life. The times I have lingered to dance awhile on different shores along the way, stopping just long enough to glimpse a reflection of my soul in anothers eyes. Long enough for a quick recognition of two minds connecting at a rest stop on their winding journey. The memory of love as found, not lost, is always good for the soul to remember.