Wil Wheaton has an excellent little piece of writing today. The smell of a perfume on a complete stranger brought back recollections of early romantic fumblings. It got me thinking; what happened to my memories of times like that?
I know that I have had some exquisite moments in my life that would be good to look back upon and relive. Unfortunately my memory is so poor that, whilst I can remember the fact that something happened, I cannot remember the event itself. If I close my eyes I cannot picture any of the scenes, except in my imagination. Its like the difference between having actually experienced something and having merely read about someone else's experience.
I hate that my memory is so bad. I wish I could treasure all of those many moments I hear others describe in picture perfect detail. The birth of my latest child, now only 9 weeks old, is already almost as hazy as the memory of my fist kiss.
My first kiss is an excellent example. I know who it was with. I know when it was. I cannot remember how it felt, how it made me feel or the nervousness I imagine I felt immediately before it happened.
And, once lost, we can never recapture these gems. I envy those who can keep theirs safe and relive them merely by closing their eyes.