I've noticed that people get a little freaked out when I remember these small, seemingly insignificant details about their lives. They do a double take when I remember their middle name or the day they were born or their star sign or their favorite band or things that they hate.
How do you know that?
I pay attention. I pride myself on listening to others when they speak, to remembering the things that they might not deem important. Everything is important, even if I just want to get rid of a few birthday cards in my nightstand or listen to music that people won't yell at me for.
Maybe it's an error in my judgement, but people like to be remembered. People like to feel special every now and again, like maybe something in their life is important to someone.
As was said in the movie "Shall We Dance," We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'."
It's true. If no one is around to remember us, did we ever exist?
We need these history books and people to tell stories about us. We need people to remember us, long after we are gone. They make tombstones and photographs for a reason.
We aim to exist.
So when I hear a bit of information, like a birthday, some part of me wants to store that around for later. So I do. I remember it and then people forget that they ever said anything. And when I use that information, people are slightly shocked.
But can you possibly tell me that they aren't a little bit pleased that they were remembered?
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