Memory is a funny thing. There are some things I have a lot of trouble remembering. Several times a week, I’ll find myself walking into the pantry in my house or the file room in my office only to forget what I went in to get. And five minutes after I take my daily vitamin, I find myself trying to remember whether, in fact, I actually took the pill.

Yet, there are some things I hope to never forget;  how it felt to first hold my children, how it felt to say “I do,” to the right person, sailing under the Centennial Bridge in the Panama Canal (yes, I had to look up the name of the bridge), or to see the Northern Lights. These are memories I hope I will always hold.

I spent this past weekend with my college roommates. The memories from over thirty years ago that we were able to recall and share were incredible. Just don’t ask me what I had for breakfast while with them on Sunday morning, I can’t remember.