Friday, September 18, 2015

Is a Memory Yours Even if You Don't Remember It?


Is a memory still yours even if you don't remember it? I definitely don't remember being a tiny baby on my first Christmas, but here I am -- lying in a car bed with my parents' Nativity in the background.


My older siblings remember this family trip to Disneyland and claim that I cried the entire time, but I'm not crying in this picture. For the record, I don't remember anything about this trip!


I don't remember my second Christmas any better than my first Christmas, but it seems like I really enjoyed this toy!

Although I remember my Dad's 1957 Chevy station wagon, I don't remember posing for this picture while hanging out the window of the car.


I don't remember most of the houses we lived in while my Dad was in the Army, but my older siblings remember many details of the places we lived.


We were crossing the English Channel in this picture, but I don't remember the boat ride. Of course, I brought Black Nose Doggy with me because he went absolutely EVERYWHERE I went.


I totally remember snuggling with Black Nose Doggy -- and White Blankie -- but I don't remember the clothes I was wearing in this photo.


I always loved dogs, whether they were real dogs like my grandparents' dog Chet or stuffed dogs like this pink dog. You guessed it -- I don't remember receiving this dog for Christmas.


I remember my brother Pat being little. I don't remember him sitting in our family high chair, but we all did -- and so did many of our children.


I don't remember sitting on the stairs, don't know what we were doing or why, but I do remember always having a lot of fun with my brothers.


I remember a few trips to Wisconsin to visit our grandparents. We always played cards on Grandma and Grandpa's front porch, even though I don't remember posing for this photo.


 This series of photos of me with my two younger brothers was the idea behind this blog. I remember absolutely nothing about visiting the traveling Sinclair Dinosaur Exhibit in the late 1960s. I don't remember Dad buying us -- and my stuffed Rin-Tin-Tin -- these cute Sinclair jackets, don't know where we were when we visited this exhibit and only know about the Sinclair Dinosaur Exhibit because of the wonders of Google searches.


I don't remember this photo, but do remember hanging upside down from the clothesline pole in my parents' back yard. I wonder if my baby sister remembers laughing at me.


You'd think I'd remember 8th grade graduation, but I only have fuzzy memories most likely only remembered because there are photos of the event. I look dazed in this photo with my celebration cake. Maybe I'm wondering if I'll remember this date 40 plus years later.

Well, what do you think? Is a memory still yours even if you don't remember it? My answer is yes. The good, the bad, the memorable and the forgotten memories -- they are all a part of who I am.

Until the next time, I'll take what I can get when I can get it and do the best I can to face each day with a smile on my face, a prayer on my lips and a song in my heart. 

Blogging Grandma Sandy, signing off for now.