It's Also A Gift To Forget

A.J. has the most astonishing memory scientists have ever tested. She can replay decades of her life like a movie. Give her any date, and she can recall the day of the week, usually what the weather was like, personal details of her life at that time, and major news events that occurred.

After testing A.J. over the last six years, Dr. James McGaugh of the University of California at Irvine has decided that A.J. is not using mnemonic devices to memorize data; nor is she a savant with exceptional memory in one area. This foremost authority on memory can’t explain A.J.’s recall.

“The woman who can’t forget” simply says that she intensely feels each day and remembers trivial details as clearly as major events. Asked what happened on August 16, 1977, she knew that Elvis Presley had died. But she also remembered that a California tax initiative passed on June 6 of the following year, and a plane crashed in Chicago on May 25 of the next year.

A great memory is not all it’s cracked up to be. A.J. had to study for exams in school, struggled to memorize dates for history class, and still has to make a weekly grocery list. When asked if she considered her memory a gift, A.J. said, “Well, if I’m able to cure a disease, it’s a gift. But to remember, like, the end of every relationship — it’s hard.”

Perhaps the ability to forget should be considered a gift as well.

 — Michelle Trudeau, “Unique Memory Lets Woman Replay Life Like a Movie,”
 NPR’s Morning Edition (April 19, 2006)

Treasured Words

“In an earlier grade, I’d taped Mark’s mouth shut for talking too much in class. Now he was one of my students in junior high math,” wrote Sister Helen Mrosia.

One Friday, in a break from work, the teacher asked her students to write the nicest thing they could about each other and hand it in. She compiled the results for each student and, on Monday, gave out the lists.

Several years later, Mark was killed in Vietnam. After the funeral, many classmates gathered with Mark’s parents and Sister Mrosia for lunch. Mark’s father took a wallet out of his pocket. “They found this on Mark when he was killed,” he said. He carefully removed a folded, refolded, and taped paper — on which the teacher had listed the good things Mark’s classmates had said about him.

Other students responded. Charlie smiled sheepishly and said, “I keep my list in my desk drawer.”

Chuck’s wife said, “Chuck put his in our wedding album.”

“I have mine, too, in my diary,” Marilyn said.

Vicky reached into her pocketbook and brought out her frazzled list.

 — John Trent, Choosing to Live the Blessing (WaterBrook, 1997)