I GUESS ONE COULD TERM SOME MEMORIES AS BEING DECEPTIVE. BUT I THINK THE TRUTH IS...THE PSYCHE HAS A WAY OF PROTECTING US, THAT IS...COVERING UP THINGS THAT HURT ENTIRELY TOO MUCH! OF COURSE, THAT IS JUST MY OPINION AS I HAVE NEVER TAKEN A PSYCHOLOGY COURSE. HOWEVER, LIFE IN GENERAL HAS TAUGHT ME THAT GOD IS SO GOOD, HE KNOWS WHAT WE CAN HANDLE AND WHAT WE CAN'T. WHAT HE DOES ALLOW ONE TO REMEMBER IS FOR A REASON AND IS USED BY HIM TO HELP SOMEONE. WELL DONE, JOHN, THANKS. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...HIS+INSPIRATIONS.

Yes, many of us choose to have selective memories of the time when we were little. Our brains were not developed at the time that we could remember everything. As I have mentioned to Ron in my recent story about my memories I revealed that I had been beaten by my mother with a broomstick, but can't remember what was it that I had done to deserve the beating. I remember the pain the stick had caused every time when it hit me on my knuckles because I was using my hand to shield my butt and my legs from being hit by the broomstick. I can't for the life of me remember what was it that I had done to deserve the beatings, but I did take in a lot of that. My family favored boys over girls, and I often fought with my oldest brother whom everyone favored and showered him with the best clothes, shoes, and toys. You could say that I was jealous. I remember the time when he threw some toys at me and it landed on the bridge of my nose and I was bleeding profusely. I cried my eyes out loudly. Mommy walked by and asked me what was the matter, I told her my brother hit me with a toy, and I can't remember what she had done for me except she just told my brother not to do that again. My mind was so underdeveloped at the time, and I was as skinny as a toothpick (I even got a nickname "Chicken Leg", Hahaha!!!) I cannot remember a whole lot of things which I should have. Anyway, to make a long story short. I, and another less favored brother moved to Canada to further our lives, I was actually glad to be away from my family at the time when I moved to Canada. Then I missed them after a while. I was glad when my Mom and Dad decided to come to Canada to join us too. I suddenly felt like it was an honor to have them with us. I got to know my parents a lot better when they joined us. You can say that by this time my brain has fully-developed and I could understand everything a whole lot better. They both passed away already, but sad to say, we have never seen my older brother for the past several decades. He was mad at my mother for something and so he was mad at my dad too. He and his wife never made it to the funerals of both my parents. So much for the firstborn son! But I do still dream about him on several occasions though.

Some of the memories never worth revisiting. I think many of us have selective memory syndrome, and that is alright. Why bother to go back in time to something that is unpleasant because that would just spoil all the happiness that we have created for ourselves now for all these years. You can't change the past anyway.

Sandie

I have many memories in which I am no longer confident of their accuracy. Maybe because of the time that has passed, or maybe because, for whatever reason, I've chosen to remember them in a certain way only. Or maybe, being the storyteller that I am, I've embellished so much for so long that the truth is no longer there to find, period. Whatever the reason, I think its just a part of the human condition that our memory remains a fickle thing.

Rebecca

Life is an illusion! How do we believe in it so? A very good thought-provoking poem.

Oh, how you nailed this misnomer of memories. They are indeed "give me a memory and I will uncover its true lie." I couldn't help but pause and contemplate certain memories I know I've embelished over time with what I want to think was truth. Great poem.