Memory: A subject all too close to my heart, or is it my head

Memory or recollection is as strange as dreams, or at least these mirror each other in my own mind. I ponder where and why certain events elude me and others seem to come at will. Upon searching, I discovered this article that takes a similar if not identical point of view.

One of several passages strike a bold hypothesis:

It seems likely that in dreams, as in waking life, retrieved fragments are subject to narrative smoothing, in which educated guesses are made about what might have occurred.

I spent several hours, on and off, these past weeks trying to recount certain events in my life, events that are directly contradictory to purported facts imposed upon me by my elders, and in particular my parents.

While I can remember the telephone number my family had when I was fourteen, I have huge blanks in recall of myself at age six-eight and even negligible recall of events that occurred 20 years ago.

The term "narrative smoothing" is rather pregnant with possibility and promise not only for the various perceptions we all share, but also for what can be viewed as disingenuous banter.

Then I discover this article in the Spiegel and it tells of quite a different sort of memory, and one that perhaps is not seen as a gift to the beholder.