My memory has never been the best.  It’s very difficult to remember anything from my childhood and there are parts of my adulthood where I feel like it just flew by in one big “whoosh” and I completely missed them.  Of course I can remember all kinds of completely useless trivia and if someone is missing something in the house I know exactly where I remember seeing it, but something important like someone’s name, not so much.

It makes me wonder if I just don’t put in enough effort.  Or maybe I just have a huge part of my brain for trivia that works and the part where I should remember important things doesn’t.  It just seems like I have to work harder than I used to and I’m not about to blame it on getting older.  That just seems too easy.  Especially when I can remember lyrics to obscure songs from the 70’s with every inflection in the recording.  Seriously, ask me about any Carpenter’s song. What’s most frustrating is that some days I’m hitting on all cylinders, everything rolls off of my tongue and the transitions and vocabulary are flawless and then the next day I can’t remember what in the heck that thingamabob is called.

I’ve noticed this year that I get home from school and can’t remember what happened all day.  It used to be that I would remember something funny that the kids did or a poignant story and be able to write about it.  Now I get home and it’s as though the day happened to me and I’ve been sideswiped by a train or something.  Where did the day go and how did I function in it?  There was one part I remembered today, and that was a creepy wolf spider climbing down my wall during class.  There’s nothing like trying to remain cool in front of first graders when you secretly want to run screaming for the custodian’s help.  Apparently I can remember traumatic things with no problem.

Is it that I just don’t want to remember?  That there’s nothing important or fun to remember?  Or is it that everything is the same day after day and just runs together?  There’s always this little fear in the back of my mind that maybe there’s something wrong, that Alzheimer’s has kicked in and this is the beginning of the end.  My grandmother had Alzheimer’s and I remember feeling so sad that this happy, vibrant woman was now so confused and sad.  And then I tell myself, nah, you’re just stressed and when you stress, you have trouble remembering things.  No sense in freaking out before I need to.

At the very least, I’m afraid I’m just letting life pass me by, mindlessly going through my day, going on automatic.  Pretty sure that’s what most people would call a rut.  I’m not complaining, just realizing that a change must be in order, something new that’s more memorable, something really worth remembering.  Maybe it’s purposefully watching what is going on or trying to see things in a different way.  Perhaps it’s something as simple as taking a new route to work or beginning my classes a different way.  After all, nobody is going to create memories for me, I have to create them myself.  And in the process, perhaps I will be able to remember more of what happens in my life.