I have a symptom. I'm not sure what disease or fact this symptom indicates. It could be a brain tumor. But then again, maybe its only old age.
Whatever the cause is, I am getting forgetful. Make that more forgetful for I have been in LaLa Land most of my life. (I think that's a symptom of creativity.)
Like in elementary school when I did not hear the music teacher say that I needed to learn the Star Spangled Banner for an all-school concert. Truly, I do not, to this day, remember her saying I needed to know that. And I was red-faced humbled to be silent as all the other violinists played!
Lately, though, it seems to create not just a humility in me, but a little concern. Am I getting Alzheimer?
It happened the other day when hubby and I drove downtown to eat bar-b-q. We finally found a parking spot after circling the block a few times and as we slowly parked, I looked up and saw the back end of a '57 Chevy mounted above the restaurant as if in a Back To The Future scene it flew right into the bricks.
"When did they put that car there?" I asked my hubby as I craned my neck to stare at the fins. (Do fins make it a '56? I can't remember.) I turned to him as he laughed and demanded, "What?" His words pierced my soul, "You ask me that every time we come for bar-b-q." I instantly retorted, "No I don't!" But I can see by his crooked smile and tilt of his head, that, yes, I have asked that question before.
I swear I do not remember EVER seeing that car end before! Truly! And that scares me.
I have put the skillet on the stove and began the slow warming of it (a requirement to these new pans and a necessity to glass-top stoves), then walked away forgetting it was there. (Thank You, Lord, for nudging me back to reality before a disaster occurs. And now I make sure I set the timer, even for boiling water.)
It's not just the physical realm of forgetfulness that I worry about. There is also the social aspect.
Sure, people understand when you forget a name, especially when there are over 60 middle school students to remember. But they laugh when I voice my thinking process of trying to add to a conversation.
Like just yesterday as we watched TV, Gene Simmons came on the screen. I made a comment about his hair (well, it is right up there with The Trump), and my husband asked, "Do you even know who that is?" The announcer had said his name, so I knew that much. And in my befuddled brain, I did know some things, but do you think I could pull out a swift answer?
"Sure," I said. "He's friends with that guy who is married to that Brit on American Idol, no, wait, America's Got Talent. You know which one I'm talking about."
Okay, there is some logic in all that muddle. Truly. I was trying to say that Mr. Simmons was friends with Ozzie, but you have to know me to understand how I was trying to connect the dots.
Finally, hubby said, "Do you even know what band he is from?"
Confidence grew. "Kiss." Score one for my old brain! "And I was trying to say he was friends with Ozzie." (And just now, as I write this, I've managed to pull out of my bag of brain cells Sharon Osborne, though I'm not sure I spelled it right!)
Now when you try to do this type of remembering with a group of middle schoolers it doesn't work. I can't remember the name of movies or actors, but I can sing all the verses of "I Got You, Babe." Needless to say they don't remember the actors I do, and Sonny and Cher?? Well, you get the idea.
I hope that this loss of memory is due to my age (57) and the fact that I have fibromyalgia, together causing an aged fibro fog. At least that is my excuse today. By tomorrow I'll have forgotten it!
But being forgetful is not all bad. Really. I have learned that it has a wonderful blessing, this forgetfulness. When you can't remember what you had for lunch yesterday, then you can't remember if you have heard this sermon before or read that passage in Scripture.
Think of it! It's like being a brand new baby Christian all over again!
Even my favorite verses have become brand new to me, speaking anew to my soul the truths that are there by grace. Those tried and true verses, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice!" (Philippians 4:4), a new every morning. It can be awesome.
I may not be able to recap the sermon I just enjoyed, or remember where that verse is that I'd like to tuck into a note, but in my heart I know that God is working anew, renewing my soul.
Besides, I take notes for I'm a visual learner. And if I truly need that nugget of gold-truth from last week's lesson, I can find it--eventually.
I have come to realize that all things are indeed brand new in Christ when you are blessed with forgetfulness.