Not long ago, my daughter recalled a memory so vivid it stopped me in my tracks. She described the colors, the sounds, what I said, and how she felt — all with crystal clarity. “Don’t you remember, Mom?” she asked. I didn’t. To me, it was a passing moment. To her, it was a core memory  — one shaping how she sees herself and how she moves through the world. It’s wild, isn’t it? The same moment can live so differently in each of us. That’s part of the beauty and the complexity