I often wonder what my daughter will remember most about her childhood. Will it be good stuff that comes to mind first? Will there be a year filled with more goodness than others? Will it be a slideshow of snippets, or will the big events get the spotlight? I’ve taken her on so many adventures, but already, at the age of eight, she tells me she doesn’t remember things we’ve done. We flew to Chicago when she was two. While there we danced with our reflections in The Bean, took in views from the 98th floor of the Hancock Building, rode the Navy Pier’s Centennial Wheel…. she doesn’t remember any of it. I’m like, “Ellie, that was only six years ago.” But nope, nothing.

To be honest, I don’t remember much before pre-school either, which seems to be the norm. What I do remember from my childhood and adolescence tends to fall into one of two categories: what happened in school versus what happened outside of school, mostly grouped by grade level.

Reflecting on my school years, a motley crew of memories come to mind. In pre-school I played dress up during free time (always in the same dress), and we took a field trip to see Sesame Street on Ice. In Kindergarten I painted a lot of rainbows, and I lost a tooth while waiting in line to get on the bus. At home, my mom ran a daycare, and she and I would watch Days of Our Lives while her charges took their naps. In first grade I spelled ‘enough’ wrong on a spelling test (enof). I also had a best friend named Vanessa who lived down the road. I remember we were playing in her sandbox when a snake slithered past us in the grass. She was terrified, so I (at age 6) carried her across the lawn to her back door. She moved to the Dakotas that year, and I never heard from her again. In second grade we had an incubator in our classroom, but the power went out and the chicken eggs never hatched. In third grade we read A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I wrote a poem about walking through leaves in the fall with my grandma that my teacher read aloud to the class, and I felt very proud. I learned how to whistle and shuffle a deck of cards. In fourth grade I made it to the spelling bee. My dad sat in the front row. My stint ended with the word ‘opportunity.’ To this day, I think it’s unfair to have a pronouncer with a Boston accent. I met two of my longest-lasting, closest friends that year. In fifth grade, I passed my cursive test, so I was allowed to practice calligraphy. I also had an appendectomy. Over those years we took family trips to Prince Edward Island, Disney, and Wells, Maine. Middle school was team sports, dances, the trip to D.C., and mall walking. High school was my sweetheart, clubs, sports, jobs, driving, and parties. The holidays were always filled with traditions; church, menus, decorations.

The more I reflect, the more I remember, but I find it peculiar that these are what come to mind first. They fall into such a wide range of experiences from the mundane to eye-opening, heart-breaking to joy-filled, painful to therapeutic. Some things I don’t think I would remember at all if it weren’t for my friends and family reminding me, and even then I question if we’re remembering an event the same way. Related to this, I’ve been keeping a journal for my daughter since I found out I was pregnant. Every few months I jot down what we’ve been up to, what she’s learning, how she’s growing, milestones, etc. I know it’s biased because it’s what I think is important for her to remember, what I want to remember, and my unique recollection of those moments. I’ve learned that our memories are stored based on what we saw, heard, felt, and understood in the moment, so she will have slightly different versions of the same stories. And this is why I take a ton of pictures and record videos so she can revisit the moments as they were. I want her to remember all of the good things and none of the bad, but I know that isn’t possible.

So will her highlights steal the show, or will she allow them to shine light on the bigger picture? All of our experiences, the memorable and not-so, have made us who we are, and it’s important to honor them all. Everything we’ve done and learned affect our everyday decisions, our automatic and unconscious thoughts, as well as helping us to navigate new situations in our own ways. Whether my daughter remembers all of our adventures, or not, I know that they have made an impact. Altogether they have made her who she is, and make up what she knows, and they’ve enriched both of our lives. I look forward to witnessing how she will relive her memories with her child, too.

How do you categorize your childhood memories? What are your highlights?