Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.

For those that aren't familiar with it, the title is a quote by Albert Schweitzer. Memory is not a static thing. Memory can be lost, and found and alters over time. I read recently, that when we remember something, we are actually remembering the last time we remembered it, not the event itself, which is why some memories fade and some stay strong, and they often vary over time.

In We are all completely beside ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler, she talks about a lot about the nature of memory (and it's changing facets). She says "This doesn't mean that the story isn't true, only that I honestly don't know anymore if I really remember it or only remember how to tell it."

She expands on this idea "Language does this to our memories - simplifies, solidifies, codifies, mummifies. An oft-told story is like a photograph in a family album; eventually, it replaces the moment it was meant to capture."

My husband was telling a story from his childhood and his sister asked "Was I there?" (she wasn't) and then pondered "Why do I remember it so clearly then?" It was purely because she'd heard the story so often that her mind had injected her into the picture.

The fluidity of memory is how that terrible trip turns into a fond memory as the repeated telling of the tale for the amusement of others begins to inject the humour of the story on the feelings associated with the event.

Time and memory are true artists; they remould reality nearer to the heart's desire. (John Dewey) and this may be a blessing or a curse.

Have you ever had someone tell your story as their own? Do you find the nature of memory fascinating?

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