Today has been a particularly rough day. Anytime you have to leave work early because of having to deal with police showing up at your home while you are not there, well let's just say it is not a good day. What is it that I did to deserve such an action packed life? I somehow keep thinking that I am paying for a past life that was extremely devious of my part. Well, who knows, maybe I'll wake up one day and realize it was just a nightmare and I will be eternally grateful for whatever cards have been dealt to me then. It is days like today that instead of rambling about the drama that unfolded I feel compelled to just escape into somewhere else in my mind. Please understand, I am living it, so sometimes writing about it too soon is like having to live it all over again way too quickly. I need some air.I love remembering special moments from my past. The ability of my mind to bring back to life events, people, and even pets that have shared their uniqueness with my own is one of the most powerful and rewarding gifts that I cherish. I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose the ability to recall that first soft gentle kiss that made my heart race and all of the sensations that came with it. I would be devastated if I could not remember what it felt like when my mother or father would give me a heart filled embrace. All of the images of everyone and everything that has touched me is somehow archived somewhere in my mind. Some of it is filed in places that only a certain aroma will make it resurface, or a particular type of weather makes it reappear into full view in my head. Other moments are completely accessible to my will by simply closing my eyes and taking a instant to find them. Then there is also those inconsequential memories that have somehow vanished into the deepest place in my brain in which I am sure that only hypnosis could make an attempt to recover.
How deep is this well to which I constantly throw information into? I am just returning from "Seconds Of Your Life" web page in which I was able to enter the date I was born and see how many seconds I have been alive. Not accounting for the time of day I was born, I have lived 1,491,740,060 seconds. I am sure that I am able to process more than one thought per second, but if that was my limitation, then this would mean that taking into account 8 hours of sleep a day, I have probably dumped at least one billion pieces of memories into my mind while awake. That my dear friends is a lot of memories! It is no wonder that I have such a hard time remembering the little things that happen to me day by day.
This previous calculation (I've told you many times I am a nerd at heart) clears up quite a bit for me about my ability to access things that until know I thought I should be able to do so. For example, some people have walked in and out of my life without leaving the least of an impression on my person. In fact, typically I am the guy that two minutes after the server at my table takes my order, I have no confidence in myself in remembering what he or she looked like. If I need a refill of my drink I'll stare at all of the servers in an effort to randomly get the correct one's attention. If someone walked by me and I was later required to give a description to the police, you'd have better luck asking the dog that was tied to the corner tree to give you an accurate rendition of the individual. I am just not good at remembering faces, what people were wearing, and that level of information. The reason for this absent minded behaviour of my part is most likely tied to the volume of information I am processing day in and out. I find it fascinating how even though I am pretty good about learning complicated scientific processes, I am also lacking in my ability to retain the simple memories of day to day minutia.
This inability of my part to be able to record details about things that cross my path has cost me many times when faced with the common "What was I wearing the day we met?" inquiry. This is not to say that nothing stays put in my head, in fact I am a very detailed individual and when I am focused, I tend to retain quite a bit of information. What seems to be a common characteristic of my mind is that I am like many males, selective as to what I take in mentally. Clearly if you walked across the room wearing something beautiful, I am sure to remember what you were wearing because of how it's beauty impacted my senses. The same thing would happen if you were wearing something horrendously ugly. More importantly, if I hold a significant interest in getting to know you, indeed I will remember plenty about your appearance, demeanor, and so much more. So yes, it is selective memory what rules my ability to remember things.
This inability of my part to be able to record details about things that cross my path has cost me many times when faced with the common "What was I wearing the day we met?" inquiry. This is not to say that nothing stays put in my head, in fact I am a very detailed individual and when I am focused, I tend to retain quite a bit of information. What seems to be a common characteristic of my mind is that I am like many males, selective as to what I take in mentally. Clearly if you walked across the room wearing something beautiful, I am sure to remember what you were wearing because of how it's beauty impacted my senses. The same thing would happen if you were wearing something horrendously ugly. More importantly, if I hold a significant interest in getting to know you, indeed I will remember plenty about your appearance, demeanor, and so much more. So yes, it is selective memory what rules my ability to remember things.
Another interesting fact is that without hesitation I can spew out the address of the home I lived in Arizona 40 years ago, and the phone number too. However, do not ask me the address of any of the places I have lived in the past 24 years in California other than my current one, and the one where my ex still lives. I can barely remember the street names, but not the numbers, and much less any old phone numbers. In fact, I cannot even remember the building name of the dorm that I lived in college for several years, yet I do remember the name of the one my girlfriend at the time lived in. What is it that happens to all of that information that was once a common denominator in my life and now has evaporated? I've had dreams in which I have returned to the campus of the university in which I spent four years of my life wandering in and out to find myself totally lost and not knowing or recognizing any of the roads and structures. It is like my subconscious is trying to warn me of the impact that all of this lost information could have in my life.
I honestly think that one of the reasons that I am so good at processing the complex has to do with my inability to retain the mundane. Just as I mentioned in a previous post in which I described the results of my oldest son's Pediatric Neurological Assessment, he too reveals this kind of contrast on two of the administered tests. Even though the scores showed him to be vastly above average in memory exercises, his ability to process simple and what could be construed as mundane information was significantly low. As I said before, I believe this to be much about how his mind is wired, and possibly mine too. The fact that I am able as an adult to function well enough even though I too am probably lacking in processing speed when change is introduced into my life brings a bit of hope to me with respect to his own situation. However, a significant difference between the both of us is that at his age this condition was not affecting my day to day life. I wonder what and how will my son recall his childhood memories? I truly hope that he will be able to retain some of the beautiful moments that we have shared. It is from this well of memories that I many times find hope and so many of the necessary emotions that I need to be a good father. It would be a shame if he could not do the same as an adult.
I honestly think that one of the reasons that I am so good at processing the complex has to do with my inability to retain the mundane. Just as I mentioned in a previous post in which I described the results of my oldest son's Pediatric Neurological Assessment, he too reveals this kind of contrast on two of the administered tests. Even though the scores showed him to be vastly above average in memory exercises, his ability to process simple and what could be construed as mundane information was significantly low. As I said before, I believe this to be much about how his mind is wired, and possibly mine too. The fact that I am able as an adult to function well enough even though I too am probably lacking in processing speed when change is introduced into my life brings a bit of hope to me with respect to his own situation. However, a significant difference between the both of us is that at his age this condition was not affecting my day to day life. I wonder what and how will my son recall his childhood memories? I truly hope that he will be able to retain some of the beautiful moments that we have shared. It is from this well of memories that I many times find hope and so many of the necessary emotions that I need to be a good father. It would be a shame if he could not do the same as an adult.
Normally this is where I would just say goodbye for my post, but I want to leave you with a final thought since I believe it to be very important for you to have the right memory of how I feel about you. So this is what in a few words I can summarize about my memories and every one of you that I have had the blessing to be part of my life...
Inside my mind there are billions of doors that await my desire to have them opened. Behind these doors are instants of my life that make me who I am today. All the good and all the bad that has happened to me is stored for immediate assessment and review. When I need to react to just about everything that happens to me on a daily basis, all I do is without even trying, I generate a composite reaction based on a spider web of events that are all connected between each other. So I smile, I frown, and I stare at life through the eyes of my own history. Many of you are deeply embedded in me. The way we met, the things we shared, and even the ones we should of shared are all somehow part of who I am. To ignore you would be the same as if I tried to ignore myself. This is why my friends, my family, and yes, even my pets are so important to me. Between all of you I am able to make sense of myself. I know I have made mistakes and that some of them have probably been inflicted on you. These mistakes are the lessons that have guided me and taught me the value of trying harder to be a better person. Not once have these lessons been wasted. I have also been on the other end of people's mistakes, so I understand what it feels like to be hurt. For those occasions I simply say thank you for the lesson, it has served me well too. I hope you understand that in writing this blog I have found much of the strength that I need to keep going day by day dealing with what sometimes seems like an endless nightmare. This strength is no mystical power, not at all. It is actually a simple therapeutic exercise that allows me to vent, share, and maybe help someone else in the long run. If my misery brings any kind of relief to yours, then as they say, we are in good company. Time will tell if this was a good idea or not. In the meantime I'd like to thank you for the memories, at least I have somewhere to go in my head when the proverbial poop hits the fan. The alternative is a lot scarier.
Dad
No comments:
Post a Comment