Discussion in 'Fiction Writing' started by Airessketh, Sep 16, 2018.
Your best memories
Of course good memories. I want to reminisce good memories than the bad. Memories of my childhood years is the best. I could still me and my family going out and playing together in the mall.
Moments that were together is want I want to remember most. I still want to do it with them in the future. I know someday I have my own family. I also wanted to do the same making memories.
I don't really understand what this question is asking. Are my best memories good or bad? Well of course they're good - or else they wouldn't be the best would they? My best memories are mostly from my childhood, but I have a lot of wonderful recent memories with my friends and family too.
My best memory is me with my family, spending our time together, with no problems and worries. We were having the best time at the beach, I was 7 at the time.
I am a new dad of my daughter when I am with her that's are my best and greatest moments when she laughs, play with me it really adores me.
My best memory is the saddest too. I remember when I was 7 years old. I sleep on the street with my younger siblings. With the noise of the cars around us, I feel at peace and when I look up I see so many starts and start talking about our dreams. It was the best because it's the few memories I still remember with my younger brother ans sister, they died a year later. Sad because I wish I could turn back that time and be naive to see the real world, that even problems surround us I feel secure and happy.
Spending time with your family is the best. Our parents will get old, let's give them the happiest moment. We can only appreciate what they have done if we become the parents ourselves, the values they teach us, to be grateful for everything we had they teach us to be human. being with them or having time to spend at least once a week would make them happy. I wish I could spend more time to my father. thank you for everything. mom dad
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much.
Their house was old. My grandparents lived in it most of their adult lives. It was white with black trimming, but most of the paint was chipped away. On the back porch was firewood all year long. No matter if it was winter; spring, summer, or fall the wood was always there. Red, yellow, purple flowers grew alongside the house all spring and summer.
Those memories are the best and makes me smile everytime they come into my head.
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