Looking at today’s date, I am reminded that it is the birthday of a high school friend. That in itself is not unusual but what is perhaps a bit out of the ordinary is that I haven’t seen that friend or spoken to her since my high school senior year (I graduated in 1974 so it’s been awhile!).
Kathy was on the school newspaper staff and was the editor the year before I was editor. I knew her from other classes, too. I have a vague recollection that she was in my P.E. class more than once. She had a friend named Pat. The two were inseparable. When they graduated, they returned to visit us on the school newspaper staff once or twice. The last time I saw Kathy, she spoke of beginning a nursing program at a vocational school. I never heard from her after that and because so many women use a spouse’s last name, it’s difficult to find her. I’ve searched classmates.com (which by the way, is a big rip off; don’t go there!) and facebook, as well as the school’s alumni site. No trace of her.
I often get these flashes from another time. I used to have a very good memory. That was before kids. Before aging. Before the stroke I had in 2006. These days I seem to remember things from other times and other places but not so much the things I should remember, like what happened yesterday or last week. If you knew me before I had my first child in 1982, chances are I will remember your birthday and think of you on that day each year. I may even remember your phone number, even though I haven’t called it in over 35 years!
Such are the mysteries of the mind. At least of mine.
I, too, always think of my best friend in school on her birthday. We’ve seen each other only a few times in fifty years, but I never forget her birthday for some reason.
My sister and I remember some of the same incidents (though not always the same way) but there are many more that one of us remembers vividly and the other forgets. I told her recently we should co-write a memoir. She said it would sound as if we were taking about different people when we described our parents. Perhaps that explains why nurture doesn’t triumph over nature. At least I don’t think it does. But we do live different lives in the same family. How did I get so off topic? You get me thinking. 🙂
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There were seven of us that went to the same high school. We had a lot of the same teachers. However, our experiences with each were very different. A lot of the teachers couldn’t believe we were related, much less brothers and sisters! I’m not sure how I feel about the whole nature v. nature issue. My six siblings and I are each so different and yet the same in a lot of ways, or at least we were when we were all here. Now there are only four of us left.
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I seem to have a memory problem in all areas. I don’t remember much of my childhood at all, just bits and pieces. Even high school is a blur of vagueness. And as time goes on, other things from the past slip away although there are, of course, memories that are vivid and will (I hope) stay with me (births, marriage, etc.). Sometimes one of my sons or my husband will bring up an event from, say, the 1980s and I’ll have no clear memory of it at all, yet I’ll remember something else from that era that they vaguely recall, if at all.
Memory is a strange thing. Maybe one of the reasons I have such bad recall is that I didn’t stay in touch with school friends so there is no one to reminisce with (that doesn’t explain the 80s, though…lol!).
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I don’t remember a scrap of my seventh grade. Nothing. Sixth? Eighth? Yes, but I couldn’t tell you which classrooms or teachers even. That has always puzzled me.
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Maybe I’m wrong, but for me it seems that whether I recall something or not depends on how engaged I was with the situation/event/person at the time. I know that I have good recall of my school years but I have always thrived on school. To me, school was home, so I remembered all of my teachers and classes and fellow students. Same for college and my home life once I got married and had kids. However, I cannot remember things that didn’t have to do with my kids or home. I think it’s because my kids, once I had them, became my priority so anything not related to them wasn’t important enough to engage my mind enough for me to remember it now.
Okay, not sure if that makes sense to even me!
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