Who will remember?

[thisnewday]

You can spend your life listening to stories. And you can spend your life telling them. You can do either or both and still not know a thing about yourself or about your life or about the person on the other side of these one-sided conversations. I know these things because I've spent my life listening and telling and, occasionally, writing them.

But worse than that is the possibility that, beneath it all, you may not have cared. About the lives in your stories or, most especially, the lives that surrounded you. Or may, perhaps, have left that impression. And, if that's the case, who will care about your stories, who will bother to remember them? Who will remember, with any fondness, the teller of them?