Women have powerful memories. A woman’s memory of relationships and emotions is incredible. One night last week Danine was going through Elise’s baby clothes as part of our big molting of stuff before the trip. She remembered particular events for nearly every outfit and item. She asked if I remembered how we put a Winnie-the-Pooh jumper on Elise backwards and couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t fitting right. She held it up for me to see. I had no recollection. She remembered what Elise had worn on birthdays, on the trip home from the hospital, who gave us each article — she knew all of this and the basis for that knowledge was emotional. How she felt at that time, and her relationship with Elise at that time, conjured the memory. Amazing.
My memory is completely different. I have a good memory of all of my childhood, but it’s based on visual images. Only after picturing the images of a memory can I relate it to any emotions I had at the time. It’s the opposite approach. The mind is a whacky thing; there’s just no figurin’ it.
Danine’s emotional ties to inanimate objects (in this case clothes) is legendary. She cried whenever her parents got rid of a car. Once they had a sickly crabapple tree cut down while she was away. When she returned, she sat among the pile of branches and wept. Needless to say, the clothes sorting was a little tough. She did well, though, and now most of the clothes have gone on to a new little girl. Danine kept one box she couldn’t part with and on to storage it will go.
