March 18, 2018
8:42 p.m.

Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing and corn. Followed by chocolate chip cookies.

Wait, what? I cooked? Is it snowing?

Oh! So it is!

Yeah, hardly any snow all winter. Hit mid-March, and: ka-plowy! Huge flakes. Wind. Cold.

Did March come in like a lamb? Um...wow. I don't remember.

I need more than three hours of sleep in four days in order to improve my memory.

Memory.

Memory is a crazy thing, isn't it? There are things in my past I remember as clearly as if they happened just yesterday. And then, there's last week, which I don't remember that much of at all.

So, what's the deal? Was 40 years ago that much more memorable? More interesting? I suppose that's possible.

I think sometimes we reach a point when the ol' brain just goes, "Meh. Been there, done that. Discard. Delete."  Like, so many things are just lather, rinse, repeat, and not worth storing in the old memory banks.

It's really frustrating, though, when there's a niblet of info worth saving in the vast ennui of day to day slog. Not the "don't forget to schedule your dentist appointment" variety, the "I told you about the baby shower three days ago!" stuff.

No one really wants to go to the dentist. Baby showers are nice, though.

What sucks is that my memory--hopefully not everyone's, though--seems determined to store all the bad stuff. You know what I mean, the stuff you go over in your head, thinking "if only I had left when I wanted to, if only I hadn't bought that *insert stupid purchase*, and I should have said this, that and the other thing instead of *insert stupid statement* or not answering at all."

Why does my brain insist on bringing up a 30-year-old argument with my ex? We haven't spoken more than three times since 1991, for God's sweet sake. That ship not only sailed, it sank.

Where was my brain during the bad decision making, and why does it now remind me that I made bad decisions? Like, "Did that REALLY seem like a good idea at the time?"

Apparently, yeah. In retrospect, not so much. But, 40 years have passed, so give it a rest already!

I was the kid sitting at the edge of wherever the grownups were gathered, listening with rapt interest as they told stories of their shared memories. Now I sit on the edge of conversations amongst my siblings and cousins as they recount their own memories of our childhoods and wonder why I don't remember any of that stuff. Then I realize that I wasn't with them, making memories; I was listening to others' memories.

Do I regret it? Yes and no. The memories of my parents, aunts and uncles will be lost to time soon enough, except that I have listened and stored some of them. In a way, those have become my memories, too. But I probably would have gotten a laugh or two hanging out with the kids, and so I'm sorry I didn't do more of that. Now I just have to get them all to tell me their stories.

So am I just a second-hand memory sort of person? Nah, I have more than plenty of my own. I just find the stories of others so very interesting.

Now I listen to my kids talk about their childhood memories, and very often my response is, "You did WHAT?"

Yeah, that's interesting, too. But they are lucky they're in their thirties now, or I'd have to kick their butts--several times.

Those sort of memories are probably the kind you make when you DON'T hang out with the grown ups. Or when you don't lock yourself away in a cubby hole to read and write.

Even so, I'm sure a few of my memory stories could earn me a butt-kicking from my parents. Ha ha.

I watch my grandchildren grow, and see how they spend so much time on their electronics, and there are times I just want to toss them all in the bin so they'll look up and start making their own memories. I don't want them to be listening to chatter amongst themselves in later years and wondering where they were when all this good stuff was going on, and then realizing they were right there, with their eyes glued to a stinking cell phone.

Progress kinda stinks, huh?

I have a rather ambiguous relationship with cell phones. Over the years it has become a lot less expensive than when they first came out. I'm happy with unlimited call and text opposed to paying for minutes. As phone calling goes, it's certainly more economical to make a long distance call these days.

BUT--

Do you remember the days when our most important phone numbers were in our own heads?

(Memories!)

Today I know two phone numbers without having to look them up. That's because those numbers haven't changed in decades.

I have four kids, and I have their numbers written in a book and stored in my phone. Lose either, and I am up the creek.

Shameful.

Can I really not memorize a phone number anymore? What's wrong with this picture?

Of course, I do make memories with the phone all the time, because it has a great camera. That counts, right?

Do you suppose technology is killing our brain cells?

Do you think perhaps it is time for me to remember that three hours of sleep in four days is probably not conducive to coherent thought processes?

All this memory crap started because I can clearly remember a photo that I cannot find. I've been through all the scanned items on my computer, and through the actual photos. Obviously, the photo was lost in the house fire.

It hurts, damn it. I can see that little boy's face, grinning up at me. I want to hold that photo in my hands, and see that face for real.

I wanted to send it to his mother...

She's not going to see his living face again. None of us are.

Oh, God.

You know what I think? I think it's time for me to stop for the night!

Yeah, it's time.

Good night.