During my teens and twenties, I knew without a doubt how photographic my memory was. In high school and college, I can clearly recall what I wrote in my notebook page by page. During exams, I would try to focus as if turning the pages of my notes in my mind looking for the answer to a question. At night before going to sleep, I can recall my day’s events in crisp clarity.
Two epidurals, stress and more than 10 years later, I find myself forgetting a lot of things. I used to be good with names. Now I can’t easily remember them. I misplace things. I forget events.
I have to keep a list of to-dos, a list of reminders, a list of passwords and a whole lot more.
But with this deteriorating memory, what I fear most is that I might forget the good times with my family, most especially with my spouse and my kids as they grow up. There are a lot of funny, warm, loving moments that I want to keep fresh in my mind until the day I die. Moments that I wish I can just easily open from my memory bank and relive in clear detail when I’m old and gray and I want to feel the joy, the love that this life has given.