I read a memoir that talked about family generations and chronicling down the memories of your elders because once they're gone, they're gone. And what felt like would be forever is suddenly much swifter because the scythe of the grim reaper has no sense of time. I didn't suddenly start appreciating old people like I'd never known they existed, but when I spoke to my grandma, a 73 year old woman living on borrowed time, I started listening with my ears and my hands. So that when she is gone and when I am gone and our future generations to come, her words will not be forgotten. For me 2017 will be a year of words not forgotten.