There was a crooked line

Memories seem to be specific to each individual.

 I hear stories from people all the time that don't even come close to the way I remember things being and I suppose they do too. A lot of that depends on the circumstances. The rest probably hinges on how you viewed those circumstances then.

For example: As a small child I would sometimes see my Dad feeling very sick. My mother was mean to him and I couldn't understand why. Now I know that was before he stopped drinking. Perspective.

But when someone has a memory of me, or several that I have no memory of in any way -- no pictures of it in my mind, no memory of the words or actions in my head -- it really bothers me.

I can remember similar things on different occasions, or with other people, but not those specific ones and I don't understand how that could be? If I remember some, why not these in particular?

My life has often been chaotic, since the day I was born. Craziness runs in a crooked line through both sides of our family, so it terrifies me when I consider that I could possibly be a dot on that line.

Then I remember that just because someone else remembers something and I don't doesn't necessarily mean they are right and I am wrong. And that can give me peace of mind. At least for a while.