The tufts of cotton candy I stuffed in my mouth at carnivals when I was young.

The gentle fabric of pillows under my head as my mother tucked me to sleep.

Sun-soaked days from elementary school when I was sprawled over the grass during recess, gazing up at the clouds above.

The feeling of my father’s hand in mine as he walked me down the crosswalk, my small fingers curling around his.

The days that are now gone but have found a secret nook in my heart.

They are soft and delicate memories. They will live forever.