When you’re a kid, you don’t realize it when a Moment is happening. At age six, you can stand at the window as your dad climbs a ladder high into a tree to cut down a dead branch, and you can watch him suddenly twist and fall and swiftly slice open his right thigh with the bow saw, and you can be freaked out by all of his wincing and cursing and by the helplessness of your mom’s panicked tears, but you go to bed that night — maybe a little shaken up from all the blood, maybe a little concerned about the possibility of nightmares — and you have no idea that 25 years later, you’ll still be able to replay the entire scene in your mind.