Lover of Life, help us not worry about forgetting when we cannot help it happening. When we're made of memory how can we not worry, and then find in our worrying the remembering slipping between our heart's fingers like tadpoles at the edge of a spring pond? Don't worry about forgetting, because we have one another to help us remember what is truly important: this heart touching another reverently, this surprising joy bubbling into generous laughter, this moment becoming one of sharing what is. Lover of Life can we bless each other tonight with just a little acceptance of what cannot be recalled, as important as that might be to someone else? Can we offer each other harbors of welcome the strangeness and the strangers rendered by forgetting, even if for a little while? May we offer one another the respite of being present in the now, yes, which has all this past that brought us here, waiting at the door, but which some of us do not know, or cannot know, or once knew and have now had wrestled away from our grasp and released back to the wild unknowing. Lover of Life may we cherish each other as we right now, imperfect in memory and body, imperfect in living out our faithful promises and convictions, imperfect and yet enough, if we try and accept that trying. Let us be with each other reverently, allow ourselves to be surprised by joy into generous laughter, take this moment to share what is, to bless each other night with acceptance that grows stronger and better and richer the more we dwell in this moment, together. Amen.