“Scars are just another kind of memory.” – M. L. Stedman
Technology is wonderful, I think most of us would agree. In 2009, I ran into an old friend that I went to high school with. She talked me into joining Facebook. “It’s a great way to catch up with friends,” she said. “All of our old friends are on there.” Since then, I’ve connected with a lot of freinds from my past. We reminisce about the way things were and things we did years ago. Weird thing is, I don’t remember half of the things they tell me about.
When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time with my cousins. This was back when we still had family gatherings, back when my grandmother was still alive. I remember some things, good and bad, about our time together. But even when they tell me stories now, I don’t remember half of those things either. I can even look at a picture and not recall the event in which it was taken. It just feels so strange!
I have heard about repressed memories. You know, those memories that are unconciously blocked because they’re associated with some sort of trauma or stress. I really don’t know if that’s what it is, all I know is I truly do not remember much about my childhood. The memories that I do have, well, there are some that are bad and some that are happy. And those memories, they are as vivid in my mind as if the events happened yesterday.
I may never know exactly why I don’t remember what I can’t and why I can remember what I do, but there has to be a reason for it. Maybe it is my way of protecting myself. I have heard it said that “One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.”