My earliest memory is seeing snow for the first time when I was four. I remember rolling a snowball down a little hill until it got big enough to be the snowman’s head. I remember the twigs my sister stuck in for arms and my mom sticking the carrot in for the nose.
Looking back, it’s unclear how much of that memory is real and how much of it is me telling a story about the photo we took that day. When I think about the memories my daughter will create in the future, I wonder what version of truth she will remember. Would she choose to remember an idealized version of the past. Or would the memories she create come from vividly capturing the experience of being there?Read more