I have a good memory.  It sometimes helps me overcome my shortfalls of intelligence.  It’s a plus in my line of work as I can kinda look into my head and see a design or schematic as if its drawn on a piece of paper right in front of me.  I am certainly no savant because one, I only have slight control on what I store into memory and two, I am really not smart.  The memories seem to be tied to things that I cherish, respect, love and hate but, that doesn’t always prove true.  Such as the first date with my wife…we must have had one!  The hardest part about dealing with my memory is how vividly everything I can remember is remembered. The memory is tied to the emotion I was feeling when it was created…talk about a Debbie Downer or Little Billy moments, yeah I have had a few.  I got mad at a funeral once because I started remembering about striking out with a runner on third base in a conference playoff game in college all because Great Uncle I don’t even know his name brought up the baseball game he saw me play in once about twenty years ago.  I didn’t remember the game he was referring to but, I couldn’t remember his name either – he still managed to trigger a baseball memory.  People probably thought that old Aunt Betty must have whooped my butt real good for me to be this upset at her funeral.  Another example is my parents front porch it creates instant sadness.  Whether I see it, I am sitting on it or barbecuing ribs on it…all I can focus on is my mother weeping the morning I left for college many states away.  That porch isn’t doing too well these days so, maybe I will get lucky soon and my Father will dip into the piggy bank for a new one.  Not all the memories come by some kind of trigger.  I am able to immediately pull from a wide variety that seem to be just floating around in there.  This is why I am able to make such great use of these skills at work and in some other aspects of life.  Like a few precious memories of old friends are there and I think about them everyday, I have for many years, and I believe I am blessed.  I am able to re-live the moments we shared like it happened a minute ago.  Unfortunately, my memory offers nothing when it comes to the lottery or stock market.

Remember when I said, “I only have slight control” on what becomes a memory.  Well, there is one little thing…pictures.  I can, for whatever reason, turn them into a memory that is so realistic I have a hard time remembering that I am not actually remembering it but I made it up.  Well, I think I made it up because some of them are just lingering on the edge of absolutely not possible.  I once saw a picture of myself in a crib when I was six months old.  I must have unknowingly created a memory.  Now, I remember that it was storming later that night and I was scared and wanted to be in bed with Mom and Dad.  I screamed and screamed but, they wouldn’t get me out the bed.  I can even hear my Dad tell my Mom not to get me out of my crib because I am just scared of the storm that if I go into bed with them I will forever have a fear of thunder.  I have discussed this numerous times with my Mother.  She says that I am crazy and I tell her no Dad was wrong because you ended up getting me from the crib because you love me and now I absolutely love thunderstorms thanks to you.

Who knows…God and his Universal are so great… maybe, just maybe its my own version of a time machine.

– The Dirt Paved Road