Memories

I have heard it said that our memories are all we have that truly belong to us.

There is a certain comfort in knowing that we can take them with us wherever we go. We can share them with whomever we chose or keep them quietly for our moments of self-reflection. At least for as long as we can remember them.

What I find fascinating about memories is how sometimes we recall them differently. Like in the way that two people can be at the same event and have two different recollections of how it occured.

When I studied psychology in college this was a huge topic. I believe the theory went like this: Put twenty random people in a room and have an event transpire before them. Ask them what they saw and you will probably get twenty different versions.

Forgetting is not my problem…or is it?

My strong memory has always been something I was proud of. Yet since I have been writing this blog, I have come to realize that it sometimes fails me. There are even times when my sister will “remind” me of an event and I will have no recollection of it. Even if I was supposedly present.

Now, of course, my advancing age could be a factor. But, in an futile attempt to ignore that fact, I prefer to blame the “brain farts” on other issues.

Such as the fact that many of my memories are based on visual or emotional markers rather than precise facts. Therefore, often I don’t remember a lot of details. Yet I will remember how I felt or what I saw during the moment in question. Food memories are particularly strong for me. I can still “taste” my grandma’s egg salad and the hand-squeezed lemonade from Hot Dog on a Stick. Neither of which I have had for an extremely long time.

I can’t begin to understand all of the intricacies of how our brains function. However I imagine that there is a lot more space for storing memories than we actually use. Therefore, assuming that I can still recall them, that means that I don’t need to start sifting through what I should keep and what I can forget due to space issues. And yet despite, an endless supply of things from my past to remember, not everything is remember “worthy”.

Some things I would be ok with forgetting

Getting lice in elementary school.

Every year there was an organized “lice check”. It involved a comb and an adult(possibly the school nurse) who visited each class and quickly examined our scalps. Unfortunately, they weren’t big on subtly or privacy. Consequently, if there was “evidence” of lice, they pulled you out of the class in front of everyone. You then had to stay home for 2 days while you treated your hair. Returning to school after the “absence” did not go unnoticed by classmates and involved a lot of teasing and name calling.

An unwanted sighting while visiting Expo’92 in Seville, Spain.

It was really hot, my backpack was too full, and I couldn’t find the youth hostel. While searching, I was visually “assaulted” by a flasher. Wearing only a t-shirt and his shorts down by his ankles, he had positioned himself against a wall in a secluded section of the path. He knew the hostel was near and was banking on young people passing by. I remember being shocked but trying to play it off as I contemplated how to pass him safely. Thankfully the heat and my increasingly heavy backpack proved worse than this pitiful half-naked man and I moved on with only an uninterested glance. He was probably hoping for a bigger reaction but, at that moment, I couldn’t be bothered to be bothered. All of these years later, what does bother me is that I can remember every detail of that incident.

I will say that this is the only part of the Seville memory I could happily lose. The rest of the experience in Seville was wonderful and would go into my category of “Things to remember”. Unfortunately, except for a 1000+-year-old cactus(that probably shouldn’t have been there) and the awesome hostel(tropical birds living in the courtyard), I cannot remember much about the trip.

A few other moments definitely worth forgetting…

Various drug-related activities that happened at my house throughout parts of my younger years. Details of which will be in another post…when I am braver.

First(and therefore most terrifying) Menier’s crisis at work and the subsequent ambulance ride.

Some things I definitely want to remember

My morning walk to elementary school

About 4 minutes from my school was a house with delicate blue flowers growing along its front fence. If you put your nose in the middle of a flower and inhaled the delicate petals would wrap around your nose. I don’t remember them having much of a smell, just the tickling sensation on my face.

Growing up with a swimming pool and a slide

We were so lucky! Almost every day after school we would go swimming. The slide was older so we had to hoist a hose up to the top to keep it wet. No water…dry slide…ouch!

Activities with my mom

Thankfully I have lots of memories of things we did with our mom. Of course many involve food.

One such memory involved a visit to C.C. Browns in Hollywood with her and my sister to get hot fudge sundaes. The building was huge inside…or at least it seemed so to a kid. Inside this high-ceiling place, they offered their famous “hot” hot fudge in a small, white ceramic pitcher. We poured it over a scoop of really cold vanilla ice cream that was served in a metal bowl. Can still “see” the cold-thickened fudge as we would eat a mouthful.

Traveling in Europe

Once I took a trip to visit my friend Anne in Italy while I was studying in France. It was just a matter of a few train rides and, pouf, you were in another country. We ate wood-fired pizza, took our lives in our hands walking everywhere(Italian drivers make Massachusetts drivers look “good”), and reconnected.

Having my passport stolen in Greece at the end of my trip

On the surface, this experience was a bit of a nightmare. Felt stupid for not asking people around me for help or if they were the one who took my passport and lost because I had no idea what to do. Cursed at the top of my lungs as I walked down the middle of an extremely busy street because I couldn’t find the embassy.

However, when I finally found the American Embassy the story changed from scary and frustrating to dreamlike. I was befriended by a Greek/American woman who took pity on me and invited me to stay with her and her mom while I waited three days for my new passport. She was at the Embassy after being accused of being a spy for Greece.

Her mother declared me too skinny and proceeded to stuff me with bowls of the freshest olives, tomatoes, and cucumbers all drowned in the greenest, tastiest olive oil and soaked up with chunks of wonderful bread. I bought true Greek baklava from a local bakery and swooned at how delicious it was. The “spy” and I spent surreal days driving around in her fancy, convertible. Stopping frequently for her to shop for diamonds and flirt in expensive jewelry shops. True story!

Good, bad and everything in between

Documenting these few memories has been a wonderful experience. Yet they are but a small portion of what I can still remember…whether I want to or not. Each reflection brings back even more memories.

Like when I wrote about cursing in the middle of Athens. After I wrote that phrase I remembered that at that time of my life, I never cursed! I recall that I was rather pompous about that fact too. I vaguely remember someone offering me money to curse and I said no. What a weirdo! I would say that I could forget that stuff but my kids would find it funny to know about it because I curse freely now. Though not often and rarely at the top of my lungs.

So it seems that each memory has the potential to tap into another one. To forget the bad ones could lead to forgetting something potentially good or better yet…funny.

So for now I will continue to reflect on all of the memories available to me…even if they make me look like a weirdo.