Memory, sharp as a tack

As I recall our early years, I’m reminded of a song from the movie Gigi;

We met at nine, we met at eight, I was on time, no, you were late

Ah, yes, I remember it well

We dined with friends, we dined alone, a tenor sang, a baritone

Ah, yes, I remember it well…

When it comes to remembering specific dates, as to the correct order events took place, please forgive me for discrepancies. I’m pretty certain that one of my first blog posts was correct, however, at this point when I look back, I’m afraid some of the dates might be off. This is what is so interesting about memory. What feels so important at the time isn’t as critical years later. Regardless, I get annoyed with myself when I get it wrong.

With negative experiences, it’s been a gift not to remember. Those painful moments are not recalled with the same intensity as when they happened. For example, when pregnant with Jess, I had sciatica. I couldn’t sit without feeling a sharp shooting pain, more like an electrical shot coursing through my body. Just before her birth, I experienced 24 hours of back labor. The only relief was to stand in a hot shower. I sobbed while the water washed my tears away. Yet, within minutes of Jess being born, I remember looking at her and saying to myself “I could do this again!”  

Memories, like the corners of my mind…

I guess the point is, as we go through these type of events, as quickly as they rear their ugly head, they are soon behind us. Most of the time we had a reprieve before facing the next challenge. Some challenges take longer to resolve than others and some we will never fully be resolved. We do our best to find ways to negate them.

I’m happy that my brain doesn’t leave a lot of space for the traumatic moments . Though I shudder at the thoughts, I find my mind has allowed more room for the people and events that have brought me pleasure. Hopefully, this is a sign that I won’t grow into a sour old woman. I’m grateful for how I remember things. For me, it’s better believing the glass is half full. If you think about it, half a glass may be more than others have, so be grateful for the manna you have been given.

…just one more, I can’t write about memories without thinking about Tom Hanks in “Big”.

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