Funny how many days of our lives we live, and how few specific moments come back when we try and remember things.

Well, maybe that’s just my case.

It’s probably different when you have a family, because you have a bunch of big moments stored away with high emotional associations. Marriages, anniversaries, children born, and then milestones with each kid- first steps, first words, lost teeth, first day of school, and all of the growing up events you expect with kids: summer breaks, swim lessons, grade cards, sports teams.

And then the growing up parts with those kids: first loves and first dates and school dances and such. And distinct recollections of staring at your spouse on different days in different states over the year: immense joy, disbelief, utter sadness, surprise, unbridled anger, absolute fatigue, overwhelming happiness.

I have had high and low moments during my life, certainly, but in some ways, I guess I’ve had less reasons to remember them. It makes a difference when they are tied to people that you are intimate with and care about, and have an ongoing future and history with. It’s a little different when your world is fairly solitary and unanchored. I have had a number of scintillating conversations with the cats over time, though.

Family provides your life with context.

But then again, the import of “family” can also be whatever you make of it. Family doesn’t necessarily mean just the handful of people who share your blood. And because of that, we all have the opportunity to be in large families, if we chose to.

And I guess that part just comes down to loving and valuing and participating in the lives of people around us. To what extent we do that is up to us.

I suppose our capacity for remembering is also tied to our ability to savor each day we live. Seeing wonder in every 24 hours we live is probably a good memory exercise as well. Because I’m sure the wonder is there, if we set ourselves to look for it.