Claire still loves to hear stories about when I was young. So, I tell her what I can remember.
When I was at my parents' place this past weekend, I asked my parents for their version of the stories I told.
Their versions were quite different. For some of the stories, I got people, places, dates and times mixed up. It's made me reflect on memories and how subjective our experiences really are.
When my mom flushed her glasses down the toilet during our trip to Niagara Falls, she remembers being much more angry at herself than sad. My version, as a 8 year old (or so), was that it was one of the most traumatic things that could have happened to her, to our family.
It makes me wonder how Claire and David will remember the memories we are creating each and every day.
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