When I built this website, I had a great title for the blog, but I forgot what it was, which is why it’s just called “blog”. Several years ago, I heard on TV that the brain could only hold seven thoughts. As soon as you have the eighth thing you must remember, the brain drops off the oldest thought, again leaving you with just seven things running around inside your head.
I immediately discounted that whole theory, because being young and full of myself; I knew my brain could retain a complete storehouse of miscellaneous facts. I still think the theory is wrong, but only because I’m pretty sure my brain can only hold about two things before it goes on hiatus.
My memory or lack thereof, is so selective. I used to have people calling me at work from all over the country asking about a work-related problem from years before. They knew I’d know the answer. So, why can’t I remember my telephone number? I say it’s because I don’t ever call myself, but that’s just a handy, overused excuse.
I’m at a loss to explain the whole thing. Is memory retention in direct proportion to the importance we attach to an issue? Is that why I could remember the smallest detail at work but couldn’t remember to ask the vet a simple cat-related question? If it is, please don’t tell my cats. I really wouldn’t want them to know how little they apparently matter to me.
It’s not just me. One of the guys at work had the same problem I did. He was always losing his keys. If I was the only one working late, I’d use my master key and open up offices, so he could find where he left them. He finally got him one of those clapper key chains. That worked well for a while. You guessed it. I was back there with my key opening offices because the batteries were dead on his keychain and he forgot to buy new ones.
Perhaps we’re just getting inundated with too many things to remember. In this fast-paced society we live in, we are swamped with things to do, facts to remember and places to go. Perhaps we’ve reached our personal saturation level. I don’t think they used to have the same problem in the 19th century. I don’t remember hearing about Lincoln pausing in the middle of the Gettysburg address trying to remember what he wanted to say. Juliet, however, did ask, “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” At least I can remember where I’ve left Ed. I’m not that bad yet!
The biggest downfall to this affliction I’ve found myself with is forgetting where I put things. I tend to hide stuff, just in case someone breaks into the house. I have quite a few great hiding places. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I have four nice rings hidden away right now. If you break in and take them, leave me a note telling me where you found them. I haven’t seen them for about six months.
I’m not sure that having a bad memory is all that much of a problem, except it runs up a phone bill because you must call and ask questions while they’re fresh in your mind. There are worse things that could be happening to me. I thought of a few of them earlier while I was writing this, but they escape me now.
The really sad thing about this memory thing is how as we get older it gets worse. God’s little trick on us. I would think He would want our mind getting sharper as we get older. That way we could pass on our wisdom to the younger generation. Assuming we have any wisdom, that is. But instead He decided that as we get older we forget a lot. Maybe He made us that way so we wouldn’t remember that the body isn’t quite as good as it used to be. The one thing He makes sure we remember though is that He loves us. That’s a good thing. Cause if I find myself forgetting that, then for sure I’m ready for Heaven. Assuming I can remember how to get there.