I've been copying my old VHS home movies to DVD (to preserve the original recording) and DV (to edit on my computer). It amazes me how much old memories, from decades ago, are still fresh in my mind even though I haven't thought about those memories in many, many years. I see a small clip and I can remember entire scenarios surrounding those clips, people, voices, background noises, events, smells, physical sensations, emotions, ... everything. The same thing happens when I look at pictures, smell familiar smells (like the combination of coffee, cigarettes, and dirty ash trays or cigarette breath and beer or Irish Spring soap), hear familiar noises (like the "boing" of a spring doorstop or the hums and clanks of garbage trucks), or see familiar images (like snail and slug trails or acorns). I can even vividly recall things from my toddler and pre-school days.

I often hear parents and "experts" say that children won't remember things when they get older. They say it about bad experiences: "Don't worry. He'll forget about it in a few days." They say it about good experiences: "I don't want to pay to take my kids on trips because they won't remember the trip anyhow." They even say it about everyday activities: "You couldn't possibly remember doing that. You were too young." But I was a kid, and I remember it.

I remember traveling before I was even school-age, and I remember the trips we took during summer school breaks. I remember traveling to the Grand Canyon and looking down at people and mules who seemed no larger than sugar ants. I remember driving to Las Vegas, laughing at the giant cowboy in neon lights, and checking out of a motel room filled with roaches. I remember driving over the Golden Gate Bridge and listening to my dad tell us how there were sharks in the bay and pointing out the San Quintin prison. I remember things grown-ups said, and I remember how confused I was about why grown-ups acted the way that they did. I remember how scared and happy I could be at the same time. I remember it all.

For some reason I feel compelled to tell people about those stories. I've turned into one of those old ladies who tell stories to children, and most of those stories start with "When I was a kid...." Strange.

It has changed the way that I interact with my own children (and other people's children), though. I don't for a second believe that "they'll forget this in a few days." The average, healthy, human brain remembers.

Even if it doesn't access those memories for years, the brain will store them. They will sit in a dusty cardboard box made of neurons, tucked away in a shelf in a closet made of brain tissue, waiting for a trigger, something to open the closet door, so the box can come tumbling down off the shelf and spill onto the floor, revealing the memory movies inside. And the older I get, the more I find myself opening that closet door.

Labels: My Life