Sense Memory

As I walked home tonight, I saw very small children in very small superhero and princess costumes, pumpkin-shaped buckets in hand, being led around by parents. And I was transported back to a year ago, when on Halloween, I made my way up to the Bronx, where my family was staying with relatives. There was no Halloween in my neighborhood on this night last year, because there was no power in my neighborhood on this night last year. And in all our preparations for Halloween this year, I had completely forgotten that. It wasn't until I saw the costumed children that it all came flooding back. Suddenly, and without warning, I remembered the costumed children I saw in other neighborhoods as I made my way to the Bronx that night a year ago. Sense memory is a powerful thing.

While I consider myself to be a person who processes information quickly, I am a not a person who tends to remember volumes of facts. I may have enjoyed my college history courses, but I certainly can't recite the details of dates and places. While I remember being good in chemistry and algebra, my memory of the related formulas left my brain long ago. While facts may fade, what remains, quite powerfully, is sense memory. Walking on my college campus might bring a rush of 20 year old emotions. Hearing melodies in temple brings back memories of childhood. And tiny trick-or-treaters on a dark New York City street bring back vivid memories of a several day--no, several week--period when our lives were turned upside down by a hurricane. Fact memory may go and not return, but sense memory sticks with you.

There's no real lesson here--just a feeling, really. A gladness to be reminded of a time when relatives took us in and we took care of each other. Gratitude that our loss was just a temporary absence of power and some spoiled food. And a smile on my face when I saw those tiny princesses and superheroes and realized that we'd made it--safe and sound--to another Halloween.