Selective Memory

I had lunch with my sister the other day and, as we often do, we talked about growing up together. I am always surprised that our memories are so different. She’ll say, “Do you remember…” I’ll say, “No, but do you remember…: and she’ll say, “No.” Then we’ll laugh, and together we reconstruct our childhood.  Then there are the times that we remember the event, but differently. What then?