If you don’t remember something, did it really happen? — Writing Prompt #14

Yesterday, my mom brought me all my old notebooks from college to help clear some space in their basement. Most of them are just full of notes and homework assignments, but there is one notebook I’d like to keep for sure. It’s the notebook I first started recording memories in. I have 51 recorded memories in it, some filling only a few lines, some multiple pages. After reading through it, what strikes me as most odd about the contents of the journal is that even though I only started writing it about six years ago, I have almost completely forgotten many of the memories that I wrote down. And regarding the memories I am still able to recall, the details have long been forgotten. The only reason I’m able to be aware of them anymore is because I took the time to write them down at the time that they were still memorable to me.

Isn’t that bizarre?

But now that I think of it, almost everything I currently choose to write about are pretty recent memories as well. Those are the ones I recall best — they’re still fresh to me.

It takes me back to what I wrote in my first post on this blog. The author who inspired me to start writing down memories is Donald Miller, and I was inspired because he delivered to me a rather jolting truth. You can read it for yourself in the first chapter (or maybe the forward?) of his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. My paraphrase is this: When our lives aren’t recorded in any way, we forget much (if not most) of what happened.

I have a bad memory to begin with, so the idea of coming to the closing years of my life and not being able to remember much of what made up my days here on earth doesn’t sound too far from the truth. The fact that a mere six-year span has me forgetting many of the things I used to find memorable proves that will for sure be the case. I’m not going to lie….that’s pretty sad to me.

So I have a new resolve: This thing that I’m doing? Blogging my memories, or journaling them, whatever it is I’m doing — I’ve got to keep doing it, for my own future and purpose. A big reason I think I should keep it public is I think a few others might see value in this endeavour as well and want to join me for their own future sakes. And I might be a little selfish in wanting to read some of your stories 🙂 So if you want to start joining in, give me a “follow”. You can keep track of your own responses to these prompts on your own blog and just share the link to them in my comments.

So anyway, here is a prompt for today — join me if you like 🙂 I’m going to use one of the short memories I recorded in that notebook from years ago (that I had completely forgotten about, but I think is cute) as my own personal response.

Share a time someone said or believed something so absurd that you just had to correct them.

My memory:

I worked in the cafeteria at my college, often in the pizza section which was set up right next to the omelet station. I’m not going to lie, I was fairly well-known as the best pizza maker at the school. Now that I think about it, I was really good at flipping omelets too. I don’t know why they let me quit.

There was one day I was working pizza and this guy named Zach (who I think won the school’s version of American Idol if I remember correctly) was working beside me in omelets. It was a Saturday morning, and it was about time to clean up. I was leaving the pizza station to bring something back to dish when Zach suddenly got all excited and was like, “hey, hey, hey!” I assume he only did this because he couldn’t remember my name; but anyhow, I was like “yeah?”

Zach: Come here!

Hannah: What’s wrong?

Z: Do you see this egg?

H: Yeah…what about it?

Z: Look at the little feather on it!!

H: …………………..(highly confused)………..So?

Z: So that means there’s a chicken inside!!

H: Haha, um, no that means there was a chicken on it.

Z: Nuh-uh. There is a little chicken inside here and he’s trying to get out. (Starts cracking egg lightly on trash bin.) Oh. You were right.

H: Yeah, I’m pretty sure a feather on the outside of an egg means there used to be a chicken on the egg. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee it.

Z: Well, I never grew up on a farm. (Insert couple of expletives).

I know I must say lots of absurd things, but I can’t help but laugh when I hear others let some loose too. What is something ridiculous you’ve heard someone else say?