Monday again. Spent today (Sunday, as I type) working in the yard, getting things ready for the Fall: pulling in the patio furniture, covering the BBQ, mowing, trimming, edging, and all other manner of yardwork and “winterization.”
Know what makes me a little sad?
Thinking about how Keaton won’t remember anything from these days. I mean, for us, we feel like these days are building some of the best memories we’ll ever remember. I mean, every day she says something new, learns something new, does something new – and all of them are exciting and new to us too.
Today, for instance, upon waking from her nap Keaton wanted to come “help” me work in the yard. So, instead of edging I decided to pick up the leaves from the trimmed hedges, figuring she might be able to help me. So we were both out there, stuffing leaves into the garbage can and gabbing. She would pick up all sorts of stuff, rocks, sticks, dirt, and ask me if she could put it in the garbage can. That kind of talking, interacting, whatever… that’s the kind of stuff I’ll remember one day in the home.
Too bad she won’t.
The brain is weird that way I guess, with the forgetting, and all. I mean, right now, her memory impresses me on a regular basis. For instance, with all the work I’ve been doing on the Halloween props lately, Keaton knows the holiday is close. And, she keeps asking me when I’m going to put the pumpkin on our porch, “like yesterday,” as she puts it (to her, “yesterday” is a generalized term for anything that happened in the past). What she really means is last year. She actually remembers last year’s Halloween – a whole dang year ago, and when she was only one and a half.
But, as much as her memory seems elephantastic right now, I know she won’t be able to remember that first Halloween forever. I suppose, as new things get pushed in, the old things get popped out. In engineering terms, when you have limited space in which to store pieces of data, and the new stuff displaces the old, we call that a FIFO structure (first-in, first-out). Guess our brains are big FIFOs. I dunno if it’s that simple, or the brain is more selective with its memories… but it sure does seem crappy that she can remember a year back now, but won’t be able to in another two or three years.
Owell, I guess it’s just up to Sharaun and I to take good mental notes. Because, when she’s fifteen and we tell her about how she used to call Mini Wheats “Winnie Meats,” our word is all she’ll have to go on.
Goodnight, happy weekbeginning.
Also written on this day...
- the mojo is totally genetic - 2006
- slaying giants - 2005
- news whore - 2004
- banner-monkeys - 2003
- no vehicle access - 2003