Memories appear to be rather curious beasts. One particular one of mine dates from my early teens:
The family collective are walking up a road to visit somewhere (I believe it was the Sir Francis Dashwood Mausoleum in High Wycombe). We are walking uphill and approaching a T-Junction. Facing us is wall lined with trees. We are laughing. I am saying “I will remember that as long as I live.” Memory ends.
Why my memory has chosen to remember me saying that rather than what it was I was going to remember I have no idea. It exists as a framed entity.