Mostly, when I remember, I go through my mistakes. I categorize them and try to relive them in my head, to do better. I attempt to atone for them. This habit of mine is doesn't seem to do me any good. I regret, I wish for time machines and rewind buttons. But those experiences have shaped me into who I am, and those memories serve as a reminder of who I've grown, and where I've come from. In my litany of sins and wrongdoings, God has sung songs of love and faith, and has built me a wonderful life, a wonderful family, far greater than I deserve.
So when Christ calls for memory in His Eucharist, I try my best to uphold that. He has given me everything, and I have tripped and tangled and trudged through it all. "Do this in remembrance of me." Sunday mornings when we eat His body, when we drink His blood we hold true to His memory, His legacy. We speak His words, and let the blood He shed for us all bleed into our lives, so that we might live- in grace, for Him.