Do you remember your first memory?

It’s kind of a metacognitive question, but really do you? My first memory is my third birthday, pulling up to my cousin’s house in my mom’s Windstar mini van to pick up the Toy Story cake toppers. Later, my cousins and neighbors joined us in our backyard on a late spring day to enjoy beautiful Spring weather, play some games, open presents and of course eat cake. I can’t really make out all the details, but I remember the love and laughter overflowing and feeling nothing but happiness.

Opening up my Tinkerbell bathing suit at my 3rd birthday!

When talking to a friend the other day, we were saying sometimes we have lapses of memory. We can’t remember what we were watching on TV when our mom called or what we did during the morning yesterday. I even said I though I blacked out on my run that morning because I couldn’t remember every second. My friend then said “When I get older, if I ever start to lose my memory, and can’t remember my own name, then it’s all over.” That made me think. How important are our memories in our lives? It’s one thing to forget the famous general for your history exam, another to forget the dress you wore to your cousin’s wedding and a totally different obstacle to forget who your children are.

According to the Alzhemier’s Association, more than 5 million Americans are living with the disease and it is the 6th leading cause of death, killing more than breast and prostate cancer combined. Beyond losing their memory, warriors with this disease or other forms of dementia may forget simple tasks like tying their shoes and having uncontrollable fits of rage. If you’ve ever seen The Notebook, you see how hard it can be to love someone who can’t remember you, or for a person to not be able to remember their loved ones. What would it be like to not recognize the people in your wedding photos or think its still the Kennedy Administration?

Without leaving my couch, I got relive my trip to Germany senior year. I was going through old Facebook albums, dating back to my middle school days and getting to relive all my awkward stage glory (not saying I’ve moved out of the awkward stage yet though). I remember all the pictures being taken, the inside jokes that go along and the friendships that extend beyond boundaries of a picture on social media. I think I’ve always taken for granted the ability to go on Facebook and look back on years of memories, just a couple clicks and I’m back at the seventh grade semi formal dance or high school graduation.

Hanging out with our Turkish friends in Munich, Germany.

Seventh grade semi formal dance with Maddie

And I forget how lucky I am. I forget how lucky I am that I can remember. Sometimes there’s things we don’t want to remember, like a family member’s death or something embarrassing we did. But that’s kind of the beautiful thing about it too, that we remember the good, the bad and the ugly, and these moments shape us and teach us. So if we forget them, we forget part of ourselves. I’m scared that one day I’ll look at these same pictures and they won’t mean anything, or I won’t recognize someone who I care about so much, but all these fears do is make me more and more thankful that today, I can remember.

Whether you meet the love of your life tomorrow, or make a fool of yourself Friday night, remember to remember. Look back at old pictures and go back to that moment, hear an old song and think of all feelings it brings back. Talk to a friend from childhood about the weird things you used to do.

And remember to be thankful.