For most people I know, including myself, memories are these fascinating little things. Just the idea that there are little movie clips, filled with clear pictures and sound and even sense of smell and emotional attachment, stored somewhere inside your mind to call on when needed is an amazing idea. So whether you’re recalling the memory of a vacation with the family or the touch of a past lover, some memories can be recalled with crystal clear precision.
Now, events that included some kind of strong emotional response, whether traumatizing or fantastical, are always easier to remember thanks to a little area in your brain that highlights such memories. You can see why that might be important when it comes to things such as survival instincts. If you’re a caveman playing with fire to create warmth or cook food, your brain will remember the memory of finding fire so that you can find it again if needed. Same goes if that caveman burns down the forest with that same fire, the memory will remind him that playing with fire is a no-no.
What continues to always amaze me is that a current event can recall a memory you didn’t even know you had. I was reminded of this during this past weekend leading up to my birthday. Now, birthdays when I was a child used to be a very special day, thanks to my mom. Starting when we woke up in the morning for school, it was all about the birthday girl (or in my brothers’ cases, birthday boy). Now you’d think that since it has been almost 9 years since my mom died, that the way my birthdays are now would be commonplace to me, but apparently we were all wrong. This year, more than others past, I was not looking forward to my birthday. It seemed like it would be “just another day” and nothing special. And suddenly, the memories of how special birthdays used to be came flooding back to me like it was yesterday. Waking up in the morning and finding handwritten signs posted on the mirror in the bathroom and the wall by my bed that read “Happy Birthday Kristin” equipped with balloons and swirls in highlighter or marker. Coming into the kitchen to find yet another sign posted on the table where I sat, with colorfully wrapped presents covering the back of the table. Drinking orange juice from a fancy champagne glass and blowing out a single candle that was placed in my mini-pancakes. It was a little girl’s dream morning. My mom was always beaming, no matter how tired or sick she felt.
When I was born
Now after she passed away, I continued to try to make this little set-up for my brother at our new home with my aunt. That lasted a whole year, maybe two, before he outgrew our old traditions and I began my streak of “just another day” birthdays. Then after high school, when I moved out with my former boyfriend, I did the same thing for him, which he enjoyed. Although I wasn’t able to experience the special birthday morning of my past, it was comforting to be able to carry on the tradition.
Now what I’m wondering is, why people can’t seem to recall memories they would like to, but can be assaulted by memories they didn’t even know they still had. Remembering the birthdays of my past came to me without warning or effort on my part, and they appeared as clear as a home movie; yet when I make a conscious effort to try to remember the sound of my mom’s voice or the smell of her perfume or the dimples in her smile, I come up blank.
It’s a scary thing not being able to remember someone so integral to your life. It’s the little details that get lost in the void of more current memories. I could spend hours trying to nail down her smile and come up empty, but then I can look at a picture of myself, captured mid-laugh, and see her so easily. I look so much like her sometimes its crazy, but seeing myself in the mirror doesn’t recall any memories of my past, it just looks like well…me?
My mom (on the right)
But in certain instances, when I see myself from the view of another person’s camera lens, it scary how similar I look to her. From the eyes, to the smile, to all of the lines on my face during that moment of happiness, its crystal clear. Which is a little frustrating actually, since I wouldn’t be able to recall a clear memory of her like that if my life depended on it. But I guess that’s how memories work. If we could recall anything and everything we ever experienced, well our brains would be huge, and I’m not sure I’d like having a head that big.
All The Dancing Bubbles 