I have the memory of a goldfish… Once around the bowl and I think, “Oooh, that rock is new!”
This can be both good and bad.
(Current mood: Reflective, wistful.)
The Bad?, or Things I Don’t Remember…
I probably can’t tell you what I had for breakfast today without a great deal of thought. And even then I may not remember.
I often can’t remember the people I meet. I often can’t remember someone’s name SECONDS after I’ve met them. If I do manage to see them regularly at some place I frequent, but then I see them at some place I’ve never seen them before, I won’t recognize them because they’re out of context. I feel terribly embarrassed each and every time.
I don’t remember many, many things from my youth. I remember a few of the major troubles and a few of the friends. But I’ve also forgotten many of both. I wish it wasn’t this way, I want to remember all those people and times.
I usually forget most of the truly crappy things that have happened in my life. This is probably what keeps me relatively happy most of the time.
While forgetting crappy events sounds good on the surface — and it usually is, it can also be bad. Over time I may forget how truly shitty someone was to me and continue a friendship or relationship that should be long forgotten.
Sometimes I forget the really wonderful things that have happened in my life, or the really sweet gesture someone made that meant so much to me. Knowing this makes me feel sad.
The Good?, or Things I Do Remember…
I remember the day my sister Chickenbone was born. (I was two years and four months old.) I was wearing a striped purple shirt, and matching purple pants. My mom yelled something to my dad from the bathroom. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I knew she was very anxious. So was my dad. Dad said he and I had to leave the house. (Both my sister and I were born at home.) My dad and I went for ice cream and then we took photos in one of those photo booths you used to see in malls. I don’t know where that photo strip is, but I hope I still have it somewhere.
I can tell you about the time I was about 7 years old, jumping rope, when my underwear fell down past my dress. Ah, what an awesome moment that was: Sear-sucker panties, a size too big, down around my knees as half the class was looking on. The laughter started immediately. This is one memory I could do without.
I remember only a little of my very few great loves, usually some of the kind gestures, and intense feelings. But they were very long ago. As I get older I wonder if I will or could ever feel that deeply about someone again. I’ve come close, but time or circumstances never seemed to give us the chance. I think it’s also harder when you’re both older, you’ve both been hurt, and have since become too cautious. Perhaps I’ve not forgotten as much of the hurt as I believe (see “The Bad” above). *sigh*
I remember plots, actors, and scene snippets from almost all sci-fi movies I’ve seen, but little if anything from any other kind of movie within a week after I’ve seen it. (Dr. Freud, please tell me what this means.)
It’s probably a good thing I’ve got this blog. Years from now I can read about my life as if it belonged to someone else because I will have forgotten much of it. Even now I occasionally come across a post I’d forgotten about, but not entirely – yet.
The good news is I’m probably not suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s as everyone in my immediate family has just as crappy a memory, and mine has been crappy my whole life. All the Ginko Biloba and other supplements haven’t made a noticeable difference, but I take them anyway.
That, my dear Kernutties, is the end of my reflection. I needed to write it down so when I read this blog years from now I will know it’s me I’m talking about.