My dad just emailed me this photo today. We had this family portrait taken at an amusement park and the original image is printed on a thin metal plate. I remember the photographer telling us that we couldn’t smile and how the dresses didn’t close up in the back. We just wore these outfits over our t-shirts and shorts, probably after we’d been on a few roller coasters. My little sister really got the look down cold.
My sister and I were just talking on the phone, coincidentally, how we can’t remember anything anymore. She recently purchased a magazine specifically because it had an article in it about how busy mothers can’t remember things because they have so much going on that it causes a kind of ADD and they can’t focus. But she can’t remember where she put the magazine so now she can’t even read the article, which is funny in itself and we had to laugh about that.
But it does bring up a point about memory and how we remember what we do. How much is colored by what we think happened compared to what actually did? As children, how do we rely on memory, particularly when we might not even have the words to describe what we were experiencing? More and more, I realize that I rely on photographs to trigger distant memories, things I would never recall on my own. I have to mentally squint, trying to see the places and people I knew. It doesn’t always work, and sometimes it feels like I’m making up things more than I think I remember them.
Frustrating, because I’d like to know more about me, from my own point of view. How we remember what we don’t remember.
7 Comments
I like how you’re the only one looking into the camera lens. They’re both looking at “the birdie”. Telling?
That’s a really great photograph. The memory is such a strange thing, I often forget things that are on my mental to do list, yet I remember clearly my first childhood memory, well at least the sensations, colours and emotions of that moment. Julie, I seriously love your new space here
You have hit upon a very good subject. I have a clear memory of walking down a beach with my family, pulling sand dollars out of the sand. And in my mind’s eye, I see myself pulling actual dollar bills out of the sand. Obviously, that’s not how that happened. : )
How indeed. If you figure it out, let me know!
I am always struck by things my adult children remember of their childhood and I don’t remember them the same way. Everyone has a different perspective. I have a similar picture of my children and still love the picture.
I occasionally feel a little sad because of how little I remember my own past. It’s like I live so much in the moment that I end up clueless about what’s gone before. Photos and journals and hand-written notes, and in recent years, blogs, piece it together for me.
I adore this photo! Look at all that hair you have! And those eyes!
I was going to say something very profound but I can’t remember what it is. So many of my memories revolve around the photos my father took when we were growing up.