I believe some of these memories are shaping memories. They define who I am and who I was. The affected my life from the point they were committed, and will always affect me.
One of these memories is the night my mother died. She had gone into hospital with an infected tooth. I guess a little explaination would be in order there. My mother had Crohn's disease, a disease that causes your immune system to attack your digestive system. At the time there was essentially no treatment for it. When part of your GI tract was attacked, they surgically removed it.
At any rate, they were trying some experimental drugs with her (Mercaptipurine-6, a chemotherapy drug), and she was doing relatively well. Unfortunately, MP-6 weakened her immune system pretty dramatically. An infected tooth was a pretty serious problem, and could lead to encephalitis.
She had been in hospital abour 2 weeks, I guess. About 3am I get a call. The voice on the other end called to inform me that she had died. I thanked the person and hung up. My mind literally couldn't process the statement -- It made no sense.
And I remember absolutely everything about that night, even though I was mostly asleep: the bed, the phone, the table (the phone for some reason was on the floor).