I’m convinced that as we grow older we actively block out certain childhood memories. We’ve all heard the stories of “when I was younger, we didn’t have druggies and hookers.”
Granted, it would be nice if such a time had ever actually existed, but it didn’t.
I overheard someone talking the other day about how he had the perfect childhood. He apparently got everything he wanted, was never in trouble, had tons of friends, no enemies, and was essentially perfect – from the way he was telling it.
That’s not possible. For starters, perfection is impossible, and it just goes downhill from there.
Even the most popular and liked person in school has someone who doesn’t like them or outright hates them for one reason or another. You could be the next Mother Teresa and I guarantee that I can find at least five people who would hate you just because you’re “too good.” It wouldn’t even take me an hour…
Anyways, leaving behind that one overheard example, I find myself having forgotten things from when I was younger. Good and bad things, but mostly the bad.
I suppose a big part of this is that no one wants to relive bad memories over and over again. Do you remember your teachers telling you “use it or lose it” in reference to your brain cells? That apparently goes for memories, too…
Unfortunately, there are several good memories that I can’t quite remember. They’re there, on the edge of my mind, but they won’t come into focus. Like mine and Jaime’s first kiss. I can remember tons of kisses from him, but I can’t tell you which one was our first. I can tell you where our first kiss occurred, but I can’t bring up the visual in my mind.
I can tell you exactly where our second first kiss was, how it happened, and even what I was wearing. Given a little bit of time, I could probably give you a date (although I think I have it written down somewhere, too).
I can’t remember my first crush very well. I remember his name and even his brother’s name (Karen’s first crush/boyfriend), but I don’t remember what he looked like or talked like or even acted like.
I don’t necessarily want to remember things about him specificaly, but what happens when I have kids. “Yes, sweetie, I remember my first crush, he was… Um… A boy… He was a little older than me… And I’ll never forget that, uh… Hmm… I can’t remember much about him. His little brother came to the house once to marry your Aunt Karen, though, and freaked out your grandparents with some of the things he said. I don’t remember that myself, but I’ve heard the story so many times from your grandmother that I know it by heart!”
Eh, I was going somewhere else with this, I’m sure, but I can’t seem to remember where…