What’s a small moment from your past that you still think about years later?

View all responses

Having a good memory is both a blessing and a curse. I can remember some of the most meaningful things people have said or done for me over the years. I can also remember the most random, insignificant moments that nobody else would ever think to remember. Sometimes I wonder why my brain holds on to certain things while letting others slip away.

Today’s WordPress prompt asks about a small moment from my past that I still think about years later. I could probably come up with a hundred examples, but there’s one that stands out, partly because it demonstrates just how differently two people can remember the same events.

Years ago, when I was leaving the Air Force and moving away from Louisiana, an ex-girlfriend gave me a special gift. She had created a watercolor pencil drawing just for me. We weren’t going to be together, and I knew that, but I thought it was incredibly thoughtful of her to spend the time making something so personal.

As I was leaving town, I stopped at a gas station to fill up my car. While I was standing there, I pulled out the drawing to admire it one more time. I remember thinking how nice it was that she’d gone to the trouble of making it for me, even though our relationship was over.

Then I made a mistake. I set the drawing on top of my car while I finished filling the tank. I probably went inside to get a drink or take care of something else. Eventually, I put the gas nozzle back in its holster, climbed into the car and drove away.

Without the drawing.

I was already on the Interstate when I realized what I’d done. Somewhere behind me, back at that gas station, was a beautiful, thoughtful gift that I’d managed to lose through sheer carelessness. The next exit was about 20 miles away, and even if I’d turned around, I couldn’t imagine the drawing would still be there. It had probably blown off the roof of the car before I even made it out of the parking lot.

I felt terrible. Not because the drawing was particularly valuable, but because someone had cared enough about me to create something special, and I’d lost it before I even made it out of town.

Here’s the strange thing: I don’t remember what the drawing looked like. I couldn’t tell you what she’d drawn or what colors she’d used. But I remember standing at that gas station admiring it, setting it on the roof of the car and realizing, miles down the road, that it was gone.

And I remember how sad I felt about losing it.

But there’s a kicker to this story. Years later, thanks to the miracle of Facebook, I managed to find that ex-girlfriend. We exchanged a few messages, and at some point I mentioned the drawing she’d made for me and how I’d lost it on my way out of Louisiana.

She didn’t remember the drawing. Actually, she didn’t even remember me.

Well, that certainly puts things into perspective.

Here I was, carrying around this little memory for years, remembering her kindness and my own stupidity, and the person responsible for the whole thing didn’t remember any of it. Apparently, what had been a memorable moment in my life hadn’t even registered as a footnote in hers.

I don’t hold that against her. People remember different things for different reasons. I probably remember things about people who have long since forgotten me, just as there are undoubtedly people who remember something I said or did that I couldn’t recall if my life depended on it.

That’s the blessing and the curse of having a good memory. Sometimes you get to relive wonderful moments that might otherwise have disappeared. Other times, you find yourself carrying memories that nobody else shares, including a few you’d probably be better off forgetting.

But I still think about that drawing from time to time. Not because I miss the relationship or because I regret moving away. I just remember that someone once took the time to make something special for me, and I appreciated it.

I don’t remember what she drew. She doesn’t remember drawing it. Apparently, she doesn’t even remember the guy she drew it for. But all these years later, I still remember how much it meant to me.

Enjoyed this? Subscribe and get future reflections, bourbon notes, and assorted nonsense delivered straight to your inbox.

Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.