Memory is a difficult thing to define. Before I began writing
this post, I looked online for a definition.
I found a few:
·
“The faculty by which the mind stores and remembers
information.”
·
“Something remembered from the past; a recollection.”
·
“Memories that are not consciously remembered can exert
control through the subconscious” was a theory put forth by Sigmund Freud.
·
Another interesting definition I found was, “a past that
becomes a part of me.”
Whatever definition we find best describes “memory,” it is
fascinating to think of all the memories we must have stored in our brain.
We all have memories of sad or
extraordinary occurrences in our lives.
For those of us who were around in 1963, a memory to which many of us
refer is exactly where we were when we heard that John Kennedy was killed. I was in high school when the announcement
came over the public address system. I
remember that right after the announcement, a male student said loudly, “Now I’ll
bet they will cancel the dance tonight!”
I was already stunned by the announcement, but I was shocked that was
the first thing that came out of that kid’s mouth. Having just experiencing the 50th “anniversary”
of that terrible day, it is especially sharp in many of our minds.
Many of our strongest memories are about
where we were when certain things happened.
An odd memory came to my mind a couple days ago. I distinctly remember that, as a college
student, I had just driven up to my home when I heard on the radio that Walt
Disney had died. He was an amazing man,
but it surprised me that I had been storing that event in my mind since 1966.
I also remember exactly where I was when I
learned that Elvis Presley died. It was
one week to the day after my younger son was born. Again, I was in my car when the announcement
was made on the radio. I loved Elvis’
music, and I had seen him in concert, so I was upset with the news.
Until I put these memories in writing, I
did not realize that these three major memories were all about someone dying.
When I was a young woman, I was sitting at
home watching TV when I received a phone call from a local radio station asking
me when I learned that my father was missing.
Until that phone call, I did not know that he was missing! It turned out they had gone hiking in the
mountains and were found the following day by rangers. It made TV news and the newspapers!
A much happier, rather amusing memory I
have is the first time I saw The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was watching it with my family. I was sitting on the edge of the couch closest
to the TV watching the program. We were
all laughing at them with their funny haircuts.
In fact, I remember I laughed so hard I had tears running down my face.
We do
not remember days; we remember moments. ~Cesare Pavese, The Burning Brand
Some of our memories are painful, while we
enjoy reliving others over and over again.
I would love it if some of you reading this
blog would share some of your own memories.
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