It’s a gift, and a curse.
I was blessed with a very good memory. Well, some call it a blessing. I call it The Curse of a Thousand Gnats. Why? Because that’s what it feels like, to have so much stuff floating around in my grey matter. Seriously, who cares if actress Jennifer Tilly is a poker champion? Or that there are 119 grooves in a U.S. quarter? Or that there are 20 kisses described in the Kama Sutra?
Ok, that last one may be helpful. Don’t ask how I know.
The other day, we were visiting my sister’s and Hubby remarked that the only other people he personally knew to have owned boxer dogs were his grandparents.
Hubby: She was a very nice dog. Gypsy.
Me: No, her name was Queenie.
Hubby: Are you sure?
Me: Yep. I never met Gypsy, only Queenie.
Hubby: Crap, I’m losing it.
And it’s not just useless trivia and random memories. It’s remembering what my 23 year old niece was wearing the last time I saw her, when she was a toddler. It’s remembering the last view of my grandmother as we drove away. It’s remembering the scent of the flowers at a friend’s grave.
But it’s also remembering the first time Hubby kissed me. And it’s also remembering the nail polish I wore on my wedding day as Hubby slipped the ring on my finger. And it’s remembering the joy at holding each of my babies in my arms for the first time. Sometimes memories serve to remind us of the wonderful successes and even the tragic failures we have experienced so that we may better appreciate the paths we have chosen.
I just wish sometimes I could stop remembering that the shoelace tip is called an aglet