We heard about your passing yesterday. I opened my picture files and remember that you told me once, when I was scrounging for stories about the early people in this city, that your folks used to own that piece of land where the new hotel was now standing.
"That used to be the land where my Lolo's house once stood," you said.
"How rich you must have been by now, if your Lolo had not sold the land," I said.
You said something after this but I could no longer remember your reply. I wanted so badly to remember it now that it has fallen upon our shoulders to remember everything.
Maybe, some other time, when my mind would be in a more relaxed state, maybe, it would work again and I would remember.
Just like what the Crystal Woman told me once. The memory will just come to you in the most unexpected time. It will not announce itself to you when it does, unlike what happens in the movies. There would be no spectacle, no drama. But you will know when it happens. The information from the crystals, stored for millennia under the earth, will just come to you and you will know it when it does.
I will remember what the Crystal Woman said to remember the stories in this city.
I will remember everything.
