Like I Was Saying…
Have you ever heard of the Mandela Effect?
Marcos introduced the concept to me years ago.
A whole bunch of people remembers that Nelson Mandela died in prison back in the 1980’s.
But no, Nelson Mandela passed away in 2013 after serving as President of South Africa, much to some people’s surprise.
I’ll admit, South Africa’s politics wasn’t on my radar in the ’80s, so I only remember seeing a passing mention in the news in 2013.
The Mandela Effect has become associated with false memories.
People remember things one way but it was another way, like cereal boxes or brands, etc.
One of the things the Mandela Effect has done has given me pause about my memories.
Today, I had two instances of the Mandela Effect.
Since Marcos was home, we decided to take our annual trip to Sweet Berry Farms. Sweet Berry Farms is out near Marble Falls, Texas. When you think of Sweet Berry Farms, think of a fall festival, but bigger.
At Sweet Berry Farms, you can pick flowers, do a corn maze, and pick from a slew of pumpkins.
I highly recommend this freshly churned pumpkin ice cream; it’s worth the hour and fifteen minutes drive.
We’ve been going there for years.
And for years, I could’ve sworn (sorry, Jesus) that Sweet Berry Farms was Strawberry Farms.
The thing is, I never saw Strawberries there but rationalized that maybe the farm was named after the owners.
Hell, even Siri found it when I asked her to map Strawberry Farms, and she found it.
It was Lucy that corrected me.
I started looking at the signage, and sure enough, all the signage read: Sweet Berry Farms. But I kept seeing Strawberry Farms.
What the hell?
It went until my Sister in Law recalled going to the farm during the summer to pick Strawberries. It all clicked into place.
We’d always gone to Sweet Berry in the fall. I don’t know why, but that one morsel of information fixed my brain.
Sweet Berry Farms it is.
The other time was when my mother (this was her first time out with us) and mentioned a car accident I have no recollection of what’s so ever.
According to my mom, my dad and I got rear needed during my sophomore year of high school.
The rear-ending was so bad; Dad was out of work for like eight months.
Again, crickets.
I asked a couple of questions, but couldn’t place any accident with me in it.
I tend to believe I have a pretty good memory of these things, but maybe I’m missing something.
I’ll try to remember, but I’m almost positive this accident didn’t happen.
Either mom is misremembering it, or I’ve completely blocked it from my mind.
Either way, it’s strange how the mind works.
That said, I’m glad I’m keeping some records now; maybe that’ll help me fill in the gaps in my memory hole.
Add to that some of the pictures and videos I took, and I should be okay.