Gary pulled the plastic center of the bathroom faucet off and told me I had to make a new decoration for it because it was worn out. I protested that I had not made that decoration.
“You did!” he assured me.
“I remember thinking how ugly it was when we moved in!” I shot back.
“You were so proud of yourself when you made it!” he countered.
“If I had made it, I would have chosen different colors and it would have looked nicer!”
We were both laughing, but we both were sure we were right. Well, he was. I wasn’t so sure. I wondered if I really had made that silly faucet center two years ago, and how I could possibly have forgotten if I did. Was I losing my mind?
It’s happened before. I can’t begin to count the number of times we’ve started to watch a movie and then realized partway in that we had already seen it. The frustrating thing is that I can never remember the ending. As most of the scenes come up, I think Yes, I remember this, but I have no idea what’s going to happen next.
I’ve been thinking more about remembering lately, especially since Gary’s mom has problems with her short-term memory. When we visit her and ask about anything recent, she just furrows her brow for a second or two and responds, “Hmm, I don’t remember.” I wonder what it would be like to never remember what I had just eaten, the conversation I had just had with one of my children, or what I had done earlier that day. Her memory loss doesn’t seem to bother her, though. She’s content with taking one day at a time.
It’s good to see that she hasn’t forgotten the important things. She still remembers her six children and their families. She recognizes them and she knows that she loves them and they love her. At ninety-six years old, maybe that’s enough.
As I get older, I don’t know how long I’ll have my memory. Maybe I’ll forget all of the places I’ve gone and all of the things I’ve done over the years. That’s why I’m glad I have pictures I can look at to remember special trips and events. I’ve filled journals full of my thoughts on all sorts of things. When and if my memory fades, I can spend time looking and reading to remind myself of the life I’ve lived.
They say that many Alzheimer’s patients can still remember songs long after their ability to recognize family members and participate in everyday activities is gone, because key brain areas linked to musical memory are relatively undamaged by the disease.
All of this got me thinking. What do I want to remember?
I want to remember my family.
I want to remember beautiful sunsets.
I want to remember oceans and mountains and canyons.
I want to remember the friends God has introduced me to throughout my life.
I want to remember that God loves me. I want to remember that he has a wonderful plan for my life, even if I don’t understand it at times. I want to remember that even if all of my other faculties are gone, I can still tune into the song of faith God is singing in my soul.
I better write all of this down.
Oh look, I already did! I guess I just forgot.
“But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.” (John 14:26 ESV)
How’s your memory lately? How can focusing on God help you to remember what’s most important?