Memory
I've long maintained it's not the storage, it's the retrieval. Things we prioritize for one reason or another may not have the same level of importance for others. Sherlock Holmes told a startled Dr. Watson that he didn't care whether the sun revolved around the Earth or vice versa as it helped not one whit in his work. See, Holmes believed we only have so much space in our brains for storage: if you commit to memory the name of a new acquaintance, out goes the quadratic equation. I believe though that it's all there, but the librarian in charge of pulling those files gets older and the file room gets cluttered. Sometimes the memory comes floating up later, sometimes the file is lost altogether.

I asked my Dad at lunch the other day if he remembered us flying a kite together in my grandmother's yard. I let go of the string. For some reason, there was a man (I remember as a fireman) who was across the small residential street. He jumped and caught the string and saved my kite. My Dad didn't remember--no doubt it was of little significance to him. I wonder why it has remained so prominent in my mind. There are more I could and should write about some day--conversations from long ago which remain in the front file drawer of my mind for reasons only known to the gatekeeper there.

I also wonder what moments my daughter will carry with her.