Memory is a funny thing, isn't it? I have training all this week at work, and have been struggling to find ways to keep myself gainfully occupied during the longish lunchtimes, as I usually don't take more than a 10-minute break--and, while I have many little things to do, can't do them while I'm at work. So today, on my longer-than-usual lunch break, I decided to take a walk (yes, in all the snow and slush, I decided I needed a jaunt). As I sauntered (waded) along, I found myself passing the library and decided to go in.
I fished around on the shelves for some quick, mindless reading, and soon found myself browing through books by an author whom I had not read, but who I knew wrote novels that fell into that category. I picked up the first book and turned to the synopsis. And I realized the story was familiar. Not just in a remote, vague kind of way either. I clearly remembered reading the book about 15 years ago. I remembered the plot, the main characters, and as I skimmed through the summary, realized that a vivid picture was forming in my mind of the story's very dramatic and surprising ending--even though the synopsis didn't even hint at it.
It was very strange. When I was a teenager, I used to read voraciously, my taste switching frenziedly between suspense paperbacks and hardbound classics. By the time I got to the third book, I'd already forgotten many of the details in the first one. So it was bizarre that I remembered so much about one of the random novels I zipped through during one of my reading marathons. My explanation is this-- the book is very VERY loosely based on Biblical events and prophesies (some would say blasphemously so), so maybe the fact that it is connected to something that is so much a part of my life is what made me remember it?
The thing though, is that there are certain books, events, even dreams, that I. . .we. . . remember clearly, for no apparent reason, while we forget other, seemingly more important details. Why is it that our minds latch on to certain memories, while carelessly, even eagerly, releasing others?
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Whatever makes meaning for us, I think we remember. For better or for worse.
I have no idea why that happens. There have been numerous studies concerning human memory, and I wonder if the people who conducted them really know either. Some claim it's the result of repetition, but I can remember entire passages verbatim from books that I've only read once. I can still recite Ode To A Nightingale, which I had to learn back in high school. And most of us probably remember the words to just about any record in our collections. Whatever it is, it's a good thing.
I've found that my sons can mention some event that I have forgotten completely, and suddenly it will become as clear as if it had happened yesterday, yet I am never aware that the memory has actually been stored. The human brain is a wonderous piece of equipment indeed.
There is much that scientists still don't know about memory, but they are learning things all the time. Memory is a fascinating thing. I wish I had a better one. Did I already say that?
Hey! I am sure I left a comment here last week but I cannot see it!
I left a comment to say that I had won a radio show call in quiz with a million dollar prize and if I knew anyone in America that could call in by the 20th they could have a million dollars too.
Looks like you did not get the comment telling you to call the show though, never mind, I will send you a box of Devon toffees instead!
Thanks for the birthday wishes!
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