I went into a building today that brought back a lot of bad memories.

My friend pointed out that I now have the opportunity to remake the memories into good ones.

I did the very same thing to my house over the past 18 years. I wanted to make it unrecognizable from the way it was in an earlier period of my life.

I’ve changed almost every detail of my house, but that is not what makes me love it. It’s the people… my children… that make my house my home.

There are good and bad memories everywhere. Some people say we should focus only on the positive.

I think there are lessons to learn from the uncomfortable, painful and disappointing times. I don’t want to dwell on them and I sure don’t want to repeat them. I can, however, celebrate them. I can celebrate that they are over. I can celebrate the gift of empathy they brought.

Abandonment brought me confidence that I never knew I possessed.

Rejection showed me I can be self sufficient.

Loss showed me I can reclaim what was always the most important to me.

Being told lies showed me the importance of being truthful.

Squandering instilled in me the importance of financial responsibility.

These things are valuable. They were worth learning, and they are worth passing on.

I have not yet learned all the lessons I need. That is why the pain still comes.

I wish I could learn the lessons for my kids so that they never have to suffer, but I can’t, and besides, I don’t want to deprive them of the gifts to come.