I don't remember

I don't remember being in ninety percent of the pictures that have been taken of me. I don't remember who was behind the camera, what they were wearing, what they were saying, or what we were doing to afford a picture of the moment. I can often guess what was going on by what I'm wearing or what's in the background, but I still don't remember. I don't remember what I worried about when I was in sixth grade. I don't remember my brother or my sister as toddlers. To me, they've always been the way they are right now, today. Now that I think about it, it feels like I haven't changed either. I suppose everyone feels (to a certain extent) that they are the same person despite what others perceive or observe.
I don't remember very much of junior high. Those were two of the worst and best years of my education. I don't remember all of my teachers very clearly. It seems that the teachers who were the best or most passionate about teaching are the ones I remember most clearly. I know, that isn't really a new concept or facet of human nature, but sometimes, I do forget.
I hardly remember my graduation. It's all a blur now. In the end, I know some of those memories will resurface, but I prefer to focus on memories that I know will always return fully. The weather helps me remember. When a new season arrives, I feel like I forget about the one that just passed every single time. I end up forgetting what brisk cold feels like just as heavily as I forget the sensation of warmth. My body always remembers. I don't know if that's something I've realized before, because my mind doesn't seem to recall.