My earliest memory was nearly my last… I think.
When I was about five years of age, I was sitting in an old car next to my mother, who happened to be driving.
I wanted to but she insisted that being physically able to reach the pedals was a prerequisite.
We pulled up at a T junction with the intention of turning right right up a hill. As we pulled off and veered to the right, the door I was leaning on, gave way.
Next thing I remember is lying on the road and seeing my mother’s car five yards ahead of me.
Almost in shock, I quickly scrambled across the asphalt, on all fours and back into the car.
As I climbed back into the car, I remember entering through my opened passenger door but slipping straight through the gap in the front seats and into the back, whilst asking my mum, “Am I alright?”
Or did I?
The thing is, my point of view is all wrong.
When I recall myself getting into the car, I don’t see it through my eyes, navigating my way through the seats. I see myself getting into the car, as if I’m being filmed from a camera on the back seat.
I have witnessed my mother and father telling this story several times to many different people and it always gets a laugh from the person hearing it.
So it’s a fond memory but am I remembering my memory of it or theirs?
I’ve no idea but studies show that recalled situations, especially those with an emotional attachment become your strongest.
So what you choose to recall, which are usually situations not of the norm, are remembered.
But what if you consciously choose to recall and therefore remember happy times?
Surely you will look back on life as a series of happy times.
Is it possible to remember the good and forget the bad?
This is the reason I created, “Hit The Happy Button” on HappyMap.
Physically having to hit a button when you’re having a happy time helps you remember the good times.
When I fell out of the car, wearing seat belts wasn’t required by law. So I told my mother, “If you’d let me drive that wouldn’t have happened, as I would’ve been holding onto the steering wheel”.
She replied, “You didn’t know how to drive”
I still regard this as very flimsy fact on which to base a winning argument.