Memory is a funny process... We spend half of our lives trying to make the best memories we possibly can while wishing, hoping, the memories worth keeping outnumber the ones we make a desperate effort to forget.
Then we spend the other half holding on to those memories, fearing we might forget them if we happen to look away for just a second.
Nevertheless, the amusing part isn't in any of those facts. No, there is nothing remotely humorous regarding our almost desperate effort to fabricate "good" memories, nor in the temporary false sense of security obtained from said memories.
The hilariousness is in the fact that, in the end, no matter how tight you hold on, you can't control what or even how your brain remembers it. How often have you reminisced on some of your fondest childhood memories, just to discover the majority of them didn't happen in the way you seem to remember them...?
Take as an example one of my last "good" memories about my uncles on my father's side. In my memory, they had a huge shiny black grand piano in their basement; and in my childlike mind, it was a magical place where anything was possible. However, afterwards I was told there had never been a grand piano, just a small, timeworn, ivory coloured vertical one. Also the reason behind that piano location (do I get bonus points for at least remembering that right?) stood as anything, but magical.
The brain has a tendency to misattribute an imagined event as reality, the source and even the context of memories...
So, in the end, how can we truly be sure what's real and what's fiction?