I used to have a good memory. What a great little gadget that was to have. Compact, yet ever-expanding. Always with me, gathering information, retaining even the nonsensical things for future reference.
I never gave much thought to using my memory. I never had to. But as I was taking for granted the effectiveness of my memory, it somehow malfunctioned. Did a wire come loose or maybe I was supposed to provide a certain fuel? I don't know and I can't find the owner's manual.
I now forget where I'm going when I'm in my car and apparently halfway to my destination. I start a sentence and forget what I wanted to say. While I know that this article was begun with some intent, yet the exact purpose escapes me.
So here I am, caught once again without my memory. Such an obvious thing to be without! I now have two choices. I can grow angry at the memory that has chosen such an awkward time to desert me. But what good would that do? The anger will not bring back my memory. In fact, it only serves to frustrate my memory and cause it to retreat further from my grasp.
Therefore, I have to smile, say goodbye to the thought that escaped, and have faith that the one that replaces it will be even better. Or at least make sense. And maybe I can hold onto it long enough to write it down.
** A reflection of my life with chronic, late-stage Lyme disease. **