Memories

Weird, the things I have to remember. That's what I was thinking the other day as I sat at the bus stop.

There's a woman I often see there, and we have gotten to the point where we talk like old friends. Work, makeup, television... we cover the range. This particular day she mentioned that her son was coming over for dinner, and I told her that my son is planning on visiting next month. She asked, "Where does he live?", and I almost blurted out, "Oh, he lives with his mom in Nashville!"

I caught myself just in time, but it's just one example of the things I have to keep constantly in mind.

My memory is filled with experiences it would be awkward to talk about. School, marriage, past jobs... no matter what the subject, I have to constantly filter what I say unless I want to get into a long explanation of my situation.

It's funny, though... more and more, those memories seem the memories of someone else, almost like scenes from a movie you saw long ago. New memories are crowding them out, pushing them into the shadows.

I had an odd experience a while back. I was organizing files on my computer's hard drive, and came across a folder full of old pictures of myself. As I went through them, it hit me... I don't know this person! I remember the face, but it's inconceivable that it was ever mine.

Today I had an even odder experience. I was thinking of elementary school, and it hit me that I remembered myself as Annie. All the experiences were there: playing at recess, doing a magic trick for show & tell, watching a movie in the cafeteria; yet they were the experiences of a little girl with bushy hair and too-long legs. I was seeing things through the eyes of the person that had been there all along, buried deep inside, but still there.

Maybe before long I won't have to filter my memories any more.