I feel like the idea of reliving moments we qualify as ‘the best times’ sounds better than it is. I am guilty of reminiscing and dying for the chance to be able to go back to a time that brings smiles to my face and butterflies to my stomach. But then I think about it, and what if you go back and end up discovering the imperfections of the moment? Then that special cherished occasion is tainted. Too difficult of a decision. I think we’re lucky to have our memories.