Memories (A Letter to a Friend)

Dear (name redacted),
You are not alone with your frustration about being forgetful of things you wish you could remember.
All of us forget, or even repress, lots of our memories, and it's annoying.
It's also a side effect of having the veil over our minds to prevent us from remembering our pre-mortal experiences, in order that we may progress in this life and develop faith.
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There also is much that I don't remember from my own life..
When I read my previous personal journal entries, sometimes these memories come flooding back to me, but sometimes those entries are as if a stranger wrote them, even though it's in my own handwriting and it's a description of the type of behavior that I recognize as being uniquely me.
We are taught that, when we are resurrected, we all will know as we are known.
Every one of our memories will be restored to us, both from this life and before we came here to Earth.
This will include the good and the bad, as well as those memories that we previously and deliberately repressed.
We also are taught that it is our repentance and acceptance of the Atonement of Christ that will cause us to learn from all of those memories, and not suffer from those awful ones.
Another thing comes to mind just now, and that is how we often do and say (or don't do and say) many things that tremendously influences and gets the immediate attention of others, even when we have no awareness of what we are doing or that it is being noticed.
Many times, and to my chagrin and regret, I have later learned that others have noticed me (or even grossly misinterpreted my intentions) in ways that escaped my knowledge at the time.
Sometimes what others have noticed about me was gratifying, but, far too often, others have been hurt or offended by me.
That is especially troubling when I wasn't even aware that I was having such a negative effect, and being such a discouraging example for them.
For example, I remember visiting with the Brant family at their family reunion several years ago in Romney, West Virginia.
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One of the twin girls told me then of an earlier experience with me in the Cultural Hall of the old Columbia Street Meetinghouse (in Cumberland, Maryland).
Fortunately, that experience with me made a good impression on her (she was just a very little girl then).
At the time, I was unaware that she was watching me, and I don't even remember that she even was in the room and sitting beside me.
I also can think of negative examples, but won't go down that path.
You get the idea.
Larry