I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Saturday, April 30, 2011

I have the memory of an elephant. That expression is as reliable as sweating like a pig, sicker than a dog, not really knowing if any of those animals live up to their attributes. 
Much to the relief of family and friends,my memory iis no longer as sharp as it once was, but it remains fairly good, fairly clear and fairly accurate. 

With that memory it's hard to sit through a story the second time around when that version differs from the first one. It also has perks; like remembering little cute things and punch lines that others have forgotten.
I have come to realize that memory and what it stores is like jello. It takes the shape it's poured into. 

My mother claims that something happened in the way that she remembers it while my elephant memory tells me something different. 
Once an event has passed, it belongs to the ones who remember it how they choose to remember it. 

Like jello, it takes whatever shape and color you want to give it. Even an elephant wouldn't be able to argue with it