Is it normal thinking about memories this way?

I wonder about the moments I've forgotten, and I wonder what I've said or done that wasn't remembered by me, but for someone else, it may have been important to them.(not saying it wouldn't be important to me, but I forgot it.) Like how defining memories I have of someone are entirely forgotten by that person sometimes. Like, those little memories and moments, that just stick for whatever reason and that's what you have to remember by. It could be remembering what someone said on one particular day, one sentence, and it's just a crystal clear "I'm there again!" type memory.
IIN? Any thoughts?

Is It Normal?
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  • I hate the idea that I've undoubtedly lost memories I used to cherish maybe even only a decade ago. Maybe there were things my family used to collectively reminisce about that NONE of us remember now. It's scary, but I guess nothing stays whole over time.

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  • Memory has always been something that disturbs me to think about. This is something I wrote years ago in a diary (more like a chapbook, really):

    all of sudden, it occurred to me that i hardly remember any of my life. a year was never really 365 experiences. a day isn't 24 hours of time. an hour isn't composed of sixty moments, and no arbitrary increment of what we call time or life is real. because in our subjective "reality", memory scrapes the dregs of experience and bestows it upon us at our deathbeds, so that ultimately, all i am left with is a series of blurry images and voice clips that sound vaguely familiar but somehow entirely foreign, as if it occurred in another dimension… or to another person. which makes sense; it's not like i'm ever the same person as the day before and this epiphany is proof of that – i am different now. so where is my former self?

    but these realizations materialize periodically and my brain is incapable of processing it constantly. so soon autopilot will take over and life will again wash over my dispassionate indifferent body like a doll brought to life in the fantasy of a child. my being is an instrument by which life happens. i do not live life, life occurs to me. all of a sudden, it occurred to me.

    so if i don't remember this moment
    will it have ever existed?

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    • Wow that was very well said! I think about everything you said all the time but couldn't exactly put it into words like you did. Memory really is a bit disturbing. Anyway great comment :)

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  • I think we each have our own sense of what is important to remember and what isn't, that's the beauty of life, we live it and if we are lucky, we can remember it. I hope you have really happy memories.

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  • I very rarely take photographs which I now look back on with regret coz when I look at pictures of my son as a very young child, I can recount that exact day and feel the feeling of the time.

    Take lots of photos and laugh often!

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    • I recently deleted my Facebook account because I utterly despise Facebook, but before I did I started to look through all of my photos. I had this tidal wave of nostalgia and I suddenly noticed that none of them were taken by me. I NEVER take photos, and if I were to delete my account, I would lose all of that documentation forever. I ended up saving all of them on my computer, which is preferable, but even a computer isn't completely reliable and fail-safe.

      Ultimately I concluded that the real documentation occurred in my head, and that was just as unreliable as anything else. I'm not sure where the lesson in that is. But I think it's really bizarre that part of our identities are already stored online.

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  • Wow shaytards on youtube, they got this covered

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