Today does not need to become a memory to matter.

It does not need to become a story.

Nothing remarkable needs to happen.

No photograph needs to be taken.

No moment needs to be preserved.

It can simply be—

today.

Some days announce themselves.

A beginning.

An ending.

A celebration.

A journey.

A day we know, even while we are living it, that we will remember.

Most do not.

Most arrive quietly.

Morning becomes afternoon.

Things need doing.

Someone calls.

Plans change.

Dinner happens.

Evening comes.

And another day passes.

Perhaps nothing from today will stay with us.

We may not remember what we ate.

What the weather was like.

What we talked about.

A year from now, we may struggle to remember anything about this particular day at all.

That does not make it empty.

A day does not have to be remembered to have been lived.

Tomorrow may give today another meaning.

It may turn something ordinary into a memory.

Or it may not.

Perhaps today will simply become yesterday.

That is enough too.

It was here.

We were here.

And for a little while—

this was today.