It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time." ~Barbara Kingsolver
Memory can be a funny thing.
Sometimes, when you need it most, it can't be found. Like when someone is approaching you, waving, and calling your name. You realize that you should know this person; they obviously know you. But, no matter how hard you struggle to remember their name, your gray matter won't cough it up.
Then there are times when something triggers a memory long forgotten. The trigger might be a song or a smell; it's always sensory. Suddenly, we're transported back to a time and place we haven't thought of in years.
I often stayed overnight at my great-aunt's house as a small child. She was a lot of fun and knew how to entertain children. My first experience with emotional memory occurred as a result of those visits, and it was pretty powerful.
Before bedtime, Aunt Pauline would draw a warm, bubbly bath and let me play for a while. There was always a bar of gold Dial soap and the toys that she kept for my visits. Unbeknownst to me then, the scent of that soap would stay with me long after those overnighters came to an end.
Many years went by before I got another whiff of Dial soap, but the memories came flooding back when I did. For an instant, I could see that bathroom again in my mind's eye, light reflecting off the salmon-pink tile. I could feel the sudsy warm water against my skin and hear my aunt's cackle-like laughter. It was fantastic, but fleeting.
The house we grew up in had a sizable backyard, and just beyond that were train tracks. In the '60s and '70s, there was a lot of activity on those tracks. Freight trains came by multiple times throughout the day and night, hauling lots of coal and other products. So we would race to the backyard during the daylight hours as soon as we heard the whistle off in the distance. Waiting patiently, we sat on a giant rock near the small crest overlooking the tracks. We would motion to the conductor, pumping our arms up and down, who blew the whistle again. Then, the rear brakeman, who always rode in the caboose, would wave or salute as the train disappeared around the bend.
While most people would complain about the noise, we grew accustomed to it; a comforting reminder that we were home. We lived on a quiet street (other than the trains), and on summer nights, the only sounds were the crickets and the hum of a box fan trying to cool the humid air.
I loved hearing the train whistle and feeling the vibrations as the approaching engine got closer. When I grew up and moved out, I left those sounds behind.
Many years later, while visiting relatives, I stayed near train tracks. It was a warm August evening, the bedroom window was open, and the crickets were singing their familiar summer song.
Then, I heard it. A lowly train whistle far off in the distance. Suddenly, I was back in a twin bed in the old neighborhood of my childhood house. The feeling of nostalgia was heartwarming, and I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting desperately to hang on to it as long as possible. But, it was momentary, slipping away before I could wrap myself in its sweetness.
Who knew that seemingly insignificant things could stay with us, buried in the long-term memory of our brains? Instead, these things were a mundane part of daily life.
We do not remember days; we remember moments. ~Cesare Pavese
So, what causes them to generate the intense emotions they do so many years later?
I've always assumed it's the powerful feeling that we're pulled from the present moment and thrust back to a time that occurred many years prior. After all, the sensory components remain the same while we have changed.
While the process is still not fully understood, it's believed that the hippocampus and two amygdalae regions in the brain play key roles in processing both memories and emotions. Interactions between the two may reinforce the link between them.
Most of us have old family photos that are occasionally brought out and reminisced over, a tangible connection to a past that's gone forever. Similar to those pictures are memorable occasions filed away in our subconscious minds. But, they're easily recalled due to their significance in our lives.
However, many thousands more exist that have slowly faded away. Seemingly insignificant moments that are all too soon forgotten.
Those rare occasions of emotional memory are golden opportunities to relive, for a few precious seconds, the moments that are no longer inconsequential. Only with the passage of time does the actual value of these flashbacks become obvious.
One more reason why we should live every moment to the fullest!
Learn more about emotional memory in this Psychology Today article.
Each man's memory is his private literature, and every recollection affects us with something of the penetrative force that belongs to the work of art. ~Aldous Huxley
Emotional Memory