The Way We Were

"Mem'ries light the corner of my mind... misty, water-color memories of the way we were."

James and I had a series of discussions once about whether having access to a smartphone makes our memories worse, in terms of just knowing that you can look up anything you might need to know, so why bother trying to remember it? One article I read said that, as a species, we've operated in outsourced memories forever. They gave the example of having shared experiences, like when within your family you can say, "Remember that movie with that guy who was in that musical?" and someone responds with, "Yeah! He did that pickle commercial, too..." and then eventually someone comes up with the name that everyone immediately recognizes (or says, "Huh, I wouldn't have ever landed on that.")

What I've found interesting about my life and the way I've lived it is that I simply do not remember much about my young adult life. I know I went to college(s), but beyond a dozen or so highlights, I have very few recollection of those years.

I can't recall what I ate when I lived by myself in that apartment right off campus. I do remember working for an incompetent lady who shouldn't have owned a boutique kids' clothes shop... but how did I get that job there? Why did I? Did I have any real friends in the theater department? I remember not being lonely (as I'd been at the first college I attended), but... what was I doing?

I know I lived in Eureka Springs for a year or so, but cannot remember what I did with my time except for that once I gave blood at a college campus a mile away, walking both ways, and then passed out when I got home; or the time I put all of my ponytail-holders in my hair and ended up with a single horn on top of my head. I guess I also remember helping with VBS at a church, and working out with some friends' kids. But that's almost all I have for an entire year.

Then in Las Vegas, I had a job at Sam's Club, and I volunteered for Greyhound Pets of America... but I don't know how I found GPA. Except for two notable examples, I don't remember where I went out to eat. I don't remember what the library looked like. I couldn't navigate The Lakes without GPS, though I used to walk the area almost every day. What did I do at Sam's Club before I fell in with a guy there? Who were my work buddies?

Once I had kids, the memories stay in place more securely. I think a good part of that is that I have digital pictures starting in 2001, so I come across things that jog my memory and act as an electronic life partner. But it's weird having vague recollections like that someone gave me a box of Forrest Gump chocolates once, and I remember the candy and the living room I was sitting in but do not know at all what the context was or who the people were. (Although my parents might be able to come up with that one, since I think they were there, too.)

Sometimes I'm tempted to wish that James and I had gotten together in high school, but he insists we probably wouldn't be together anymore because of how much he's changed since then... obviously, I have, too. And in the few years we have been together, I know that he jogs my memory or even challenges it quite often. He also takes copious notes about things that happened, so if I wonder, "When did Mal stop needing diapers?" it's just a matter of his looking up a key word and he can come up with it in a few minutes.

Now, thanks to Google Photos, here are some memories from this day, October 29, in history... the past 18 years, anyway.