This is disturbing. I have never experienced this but it must be sad.
I am happy that I have started journaling.
this post was submitted on 27 Jun 2025
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Memory is a funny thing. People around me often highlight that I remember oddly specific stuff, but I forget what they make a huge deal of.
So for example, I do remember the name of the girl of my first kiss. And her face, including her ears. Her birthday too, although that's because it's close to mine.
I also remember the weird smell of the nurse who took care of my sister when sis was internalised, 30 years ago. (I was 9 back then; now I know the smell is disinfectant). I also remember the specific pitch of my neighbour's dog "yuuuunnn~", as he brought what-used-to-be-a-ball through the outer fence of his home, so I could throw to him. (I had dogs back then, but neither was into playing as much as that good boy.)
I also remember my grandpa completely drunk, but taking care of me, when I was 6. And my grandma scolding him for that. Or the toy grandma gave me, a coin that flipped as if it was "magic", as it went through a house-like thing. (It was themed after Ducktales.)
However I'd be lying if I said I remember the face of my father, even if I lived with him until he died (I was 18). I also tend to forget the specific date of my nephew's birthday, even if I care a lot about him. I'm also always pausing to remember how many tablespoons of coffee I need to add to the machine, for a specific amount of coffee.
For me it was Gina P, in kindergarten, 1971.
Time flies like the wind. Fruit flies like a banana.
Mine was named Kim. She had a twin sister named Tracy. IIRC, she was something like 4 or 5 years older than me! We lived in south Florida. This was probably somewhere in ‘78 or ‘79. I think they moved to Cali not long after.