My memory is really bad. I mean, really really bad. I forget simple things. I forget more important things. I forget stories that I want to tell. I forget plot lines in movies. I read a good book, and 6 months later I know I have read it, but chances are I cannot give you any details. I forget funny things that happen in our every day lives. I forget birthdays and anniversaries. I forget things that my children have done, things that I want to remember.
These are all things that I want to retain within myself, yet I am unable to do so.
I have often wondered about my lack of memory. I get frustrated because I cannot recall the details of something my kids told me earlier, or that funny thing my son did yesterday. I want to replay a story in my head, only to have it stall out because the details are lost to me.
Why is it so hard for me to remember?
It occurs to me that I have spent the better part of my life trying to forget details of some particularly painful childhood experiences. I spent time building an impenetrable wall. I learned very early in life just what a secret was. I learned how to place things in a box, place the box on a shelf and try my hardest to forget it was there.
But why is it that I can remember things I do not wish to remember? I remember painful experiences with a muddled clarity.
But the beautiful, inspiring moments, are lost. Washed away like the dirt from yesterday.