Forgetful Lucy

Sometimes I feel like a character from that movie 50 First Dates. Remember that little gem? One of the most giggle enhancing movies I’ve seen. Some of the characters have amnesia or can only recall their oldest memories. No new memories.

I feel like that sometimes. Ok. Often. I am forgetting everything that matters. I can’t remember my kids as babies. I loved them so much just for being babies. And now I can’t remember any of it.

I can’t remember what it felt like to date my husband. We have been together almost twenty years. We have been together more years than we lived without one another. I know I loved dating him. I was a giddy idiot. But I can’t remember.

I can’t remember the answers my kids or students give me when I ask them the question. Any question. And I realized this morning that I am not looking intently enough. I am not paying close enough attention. I am the man James spoke of in chapter one. I have looked in the mirror and, once I turn, I immediately forget what I look like. Crazy? Lame maybe, but not crazy.
Picture the scene.
I am standing on the playground attending to the lunch recess crowd. There’s the group of taggers, diggers, ponies, and the jungle gymmers. It’s a good time for everyone except me. I want a break. I am watching the clock. I check my watch, but while I am looking a student starts talking. I put my watch down and then realize I looked with my eyes, but can’t recall the time.
I look at my watch. One of my children comes up to hug me. I put my watch down and again I wonder what time it is. Are you sensing a pattern?
I HAVE to know what time it is. I look at my watch. Determined to pay attention. I look but look up right away because someone is crying. A boy fell down.
And guess what. I still have no idea what time it is.
I am not looking intently enough.
I want to be intentional. I want to look with eyes that see. I want to see and retain and be able to do something with all of that.
I want short and long and forever memories. I need to sear them into my mind so I can keep them forever.
I’ll let you know how it goes.