I also came to another realization one day. As I was looking at the photo albums my parents had it suddenly struck me that all of my younger childhood memories were just the photos in the albums. There are no moving pictures…just still shots. Almost all are from the third person perspective, as if I was there as an observer looking at myself instead of experiencing it as a participant, being myself. My mother had told me stories about the photos many times over the years. Somehow, my mind had taken the stories and the photos and created “memories”.