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On Memory (Holly Schindler)

Taking pictures to remember... Our memories are really bad. All of us. We forget just about everything. All the details that we think are so important at the time. We forget the names of teachers or the people we briefly dated. We forget conversations or sunrises. We forget combinations and passwords. We forget anniversary dates. Or which year we saw that favorite concert. Mom always asks me, as Christmas draws near, "Did we have a white Christmas last year?" And I never, never know.  What we do remember is the way we feel. I don't remember what I wore on the first day of junior high (or the name of my homeroom teacher), but I do remember how incredibly nervous I was. My best friend had moved the summer before, and I felt so alone. I remember how floppy my legs felt and how I didn't think, rounding that first hallway corner, that I was going to make it.  I remember the first boy I ever went out with, freshman year of high school. How surprised and astounded I was to g

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