I have a tape recorder memory. At least I once did.
It works like the vaunted photographic memory. I recall snippets of conversations, often odd bits that don’t fit a logical paradigm.
It’s not because I was once an actress, as the graphic suggests, but because I was a speech-language pathologist working with voice clients, and I was compelled to recall the before-after-and-inbetween aspects of my clients’ voices.
Additionally, I had to determine when parents of my toddler clients had told me the truth, the whole truth, and problems that propelled them to my private practice office to seek my advice. Tone of voice doesn’t lie, like words can be used to do.
Further, I have navigated life among some pathological liars. Have you?
I capture everlastingly the feeling tone, the nuances that carry the message that some people fervently attempt to hide. It’s said that cops can tell when someone is lying via rigorous training, that translates into a sixth sense. I have that super power: to always suss the speaker’s intent.
I also capture the facts – because they have relevance – and because I write social engagement dates on our calendar.
Not my phone’s calendar, mind you. Ha! I need to include my husband, my partner for the social event. Two heads are better than one, especially when both are Boomer-aged and past memories are sometimes better than present…
An issue has reared its hory head: once, twice, three times with several friends, all Boomers like I am. In each of these instances I clearly recall what date I stated, but my friend(s) differ in their recall.
And, are frustrated with me for my error that disadvantage them…
I don’t want to bicker and I don’t want to lose friends, but I don’t want to lay another plank in the ‘always wrong’ turf in which I’ve been sandwiched by sisters much of my life. That pattern, for my perpetual sanity and peace, I must rend.
What’s a Boomer-aged woman to do, please and thanks? Be the light for me and extend me your best plan…