Tuesday, August 22, 2006

UNFORGETTABLE
That old Nat King Cole song has been running through my head the past few days. One might even say it is driving me crazy, if not for the fact that it is August 21st, and I have been home with bored, unmedicated children for WEEKS, so am, thusly, already crazy. It's led me to wonder, why are some things so darn hard to remember, and some stick in our craw forever?
I am so forgetful, if I don't write it down, it's forgotten, instantly. Case in point, one would not think it necessary to write oneself a note as to why one is opening the pantry. Alas, one would be wrong. From the time one has thought of what one needs, to the time one stares blankly at the shelves of the pantry, one has forgotten why one first went to the pantry, entirely. One might even repeat said process two or three times before "scoring", and completing the whole retrieval process.
Thus being said, I can tell you all about the girl in my first grade class, Pia Porche Paisley, who preferred that we all address her as Anna Feather. I can tell you about the third grade girl who bragged, daily, that her parents didn't care if she swore. In fact, this girl could shout, at the top of her lungs, "G.. D... F.....H...S...B....A.." and they wouldn't do a thing about it. Not a damn thing.
I can tell you how to make bloody Mary mix, if you don't have the mixer. I learned this skill at age six. I have never once made it, but I know the recipe by heart.
I can tell the names of every teacher I've ever had, what they looked like, what they wore, and something significant that they taught me. I cannot speak ten words of French, and I took the subject for more than two years.
When it comes to those who have "wronged" me, I've got a mind like a steel trap. I could win awards on my recall ability. Why are those painful experiences so locked in, and so difficult to exorcise?
My friend told me a story a long, long time ago, and I've never forgotten it. Her grandparents had a fiesty marriage, a nasty divorce and everyone thought "their" story was over. Everyone was wrong. Years after they divorced, the ex-husband had an accident, was in a coma, and when he woke up he was amnesiac. His ex-wife had been coming to the hospital to visit him. When he woke up and saw his ex-wife, he had forgotten they were divorced! She went along with it, and as the story goes, they started all over, with his clean memory and her clean slate, and stayed together happily ever after.
I'm thinking I could use a well-placed brick to the head. There are definitely some memories that could use erasing, and some new experiences coming in that might be nice to remember.
The point is, oh darn, where was I going with this, I forgot.

11 comments:

lisajoelle said...

Carrie, Love your BLOG! I was trying to start one but it's like a diary and I was never good at keeping diaries, I don't have the; whats the word? Stick-to-it-ive-ness? There's another word, but I can't remember it. You see I totally understand your post, words just leave me. I too lose track of what I am doing in mid-stream and I can't blame it on being 42, it started years ago, I blame it on kids, I started getting stupid long about my 6th month of pregnancy! Anyway, your writing is great keep it up.

Suzy said...

I think the point is, your writing is amazing!! i love the name Pia.....Paisley. It really conjures up a great visual, and he story of the amnesia guy! You don't need a brick to the head- you are the BEST!!

kario said...

I came to the conclusion, long ago, that my logical memory went out with the placenta when I had my kids. The reason you can remember all of those other random things is because they happened before you had children. I swear, living in the moment as a mother of young children does not allow you to have instant recall of what it was you were looking for in the laundry room.

Maybe the trick is to find a way to put all of your random, crazy memories together to write a fiction best-seller and then perhaps you'll make so much money you won't care what it was you wanted in the pantry ;-).

Terry Whitaker said...

Please forward bloody mary recipe at your earliest convenience.

wholia said...

We must be related. I was lying in bed mentally listing all of my elementary school teachers the other night. I could even remember what my first grade teacher wore - shoes to match her dresses and a scarf of the same color braided around her updo. But where was I this morning and why?

jennifer said...

Nice work, great writing, perfect ending!!

Carrie Wanna Be said...

I was going to write this great response, I had it all penned out on a sticky...but I lost the sticky and well, I just forgot the whole darn direction I was going...I think I'll go get some cookies out of the pantry!!

Glass House Girl said...

This memory issue isn't a memory issue it is evidence that you are doing EXACTLY what you are supposed to be doing...WRITING your life and your memoir and all about what has made you the absofuckinglutely wonderful woman that you are!!! So forget the crap in the pantry and go write.

We are all here, loving every freedom of speech moment you exercise and exorcize!

Back At'cha said...

What was this about? You lost me....

Anonymous said...

Come on back'cha get with it

Ziji Wangmo said...

great writing -how many times have I opened the pantry door and forgotten why I was there - or picked up the phone only to forget who I was going to call?
No bricks to the head quite yet!