The Lifespan of Memory
Mars hangs in the southwest, a white and pink dot in a gradually lightening sky. It is really not much larger than a pinhead, but still, it is bigger and brighter than the other dots in the heaven. I can tell my son that I have seen Mars. Sure, it was tiny enough that any of my upraised fingers would obscure it completely, but there is still the memory in my head that I've looked upon the face of another planet.
My father recently got a stack of pictures from his mother and one of them is a picture of me galloping across a sand dune in Death Valley. Dad sent a copy of this image to Melissa. It was strange to see this picture because I have no recollection of ever visiting Death Valley. I recognize the blonde kid in the picture -- I've got many pictures of that kid stashed away -- but there are no related memories in my head to accompany that snapshot.
Before I went to sleep last night, I tried to remember my earliest memory. I could remember the multi-colored squares of carpet remnants which covered the tile floor of my bedroom. I can remember playing hide and seek with my Dad and a glowstick. I can remember watching Godzilla in Destroy All Monsters, and I can remember seeing it a second time when I had the chicken pox. I can even remember events in first grade, but no names or faces. But I don't remember the house on Carracart Street or any trip to Death Valley (even though we lived but a hour or so from it until I was twelve).
I can remember looking at the full moon with Brett Thompson's telescope and I can even remember what the night felt like and the sound of the pool sweeper as it trundled about the surface of the pool behind us. I also remember peering out his bedroom window, staring with disbelief out at the green bushes as he tried to convince me that he had seen an alien with silver hands the night before. His hands were always dry and cracked and I can even recollect thinking that maybe HE was the alien. (What can I say? I was ten.)
I dreamed last night that I had a bit part in a lavish play and, even after months of rehearsal, I couldn't remember any of my lines on opening night.