Our Unshared Memories

During the meditation group sharing, we had this discussion about memory, and I recall reading a book about Iris Murdoch by her husband, John Bayley, Elegy for Iris. In it, John talks about how he could only relate to his Alzheimer's suffering wife through the lens of previous memories he had shared with her. Whenever Iris would break out into a smile as he related a story from back in the days when she was able to speak coherently, John would conclude that Iris surely 'remembered'. But this reflection lead me to wonder, do we not somehow construct very different memories based on our causes and conditions? Is there anyone who has ever really shared their memories with someone else after all?
    I related to the meditation group a cliché example: that of a married couple who have an argument over 'remembering' an important milestone shared by the two of them. While one person might remember something specific about the date and time in which they met, the other might have completely different sorts of impressions on that very same experience. In fact, couples can get into the biggest fights over having very different memories about the same situation. What is the fight really about, though? It's not necessarily about who cares more, but more centered around which memories are most crucial or important to the relationship. It makes no sense to accuse the other of having 'selective' memory, especially when it seems that everyone's memory is selective! But because I remember something so vividly, I take it that this memory must be the bedrock for my shared experiences with the other person. In reality, are any of these memories really shared at all? Or might it be more feasible to suggest that we sometimes share similar values regarding situations, even when our memories about the situations might be different?
   We also had an interesting talk about the role of sharing in the group practice. It seems that whenever I am having what I think is a poor meditation experience, a few encouraging words from other participants has a way of uplifting my experience by reframing it. For instance, if my leg pain is framed as "heroic journey" through an arduous self-discipline, then that might encourage me to keep enduring. On the other hand, if my feeling of pain is taken to mean that I am not 'fit' for meditation, then this would surely turn me off the practice altogether. With these framings or potential reframings of meditative practice, one might then ask--whose story is it anyway? Perhaps it doesn't necessarily belong to anyone in particular, but could rather be a story that touches and is constructed in a community of practitioners.