Snapshot
It is not that I have holes in my recollection. It is that there are far more holes than there are memories. I have snapshot memories that are intense, but they are not linked by a narrative. I have always assumed that it is the same for everybody. Does anybody have a memory that you can open like a book and read the story of their life? My therapist asked me to tell her about two memories I have from childhood. This was all I could manage: 1: I am standing in a corn field. I am with my father, but he is in another row picking corn. I can't say how old I was, but the maize is much taller than me so I must be quite young. 3? 4? 5? Probably not older than 6. The sun is blazing. Perhaps it was that hot hot summer of 1976. I can't say. A bee lands on my arm. I can hear its buzz and feel its legs crawling on my arm. I stand perfectly still and silent and watch intently as it lowers its thorax and slides the short black needle into my arm. I feel like I'm watching myself fro...