Today hubby had an unusual situation occur. This is the second time in his life it's happened, and the other time was possibly 10 years ago. Today, he was doing an a/c job with his friend when he totally forgot everything that had happened up to that time. The "situation" may have only lasted a few seconds or even a milli-second. He told his friend that he was having a problem, so they stopped their job and Bob sat down on the truck tailgate with him and rehearsed where they were, what they were doing, and what they had accomplished so far. For the next 30 minutes or so, he had to consciously think out each action before he performed it. Nothing came naturally. By the time he got home, he was fine. It's kind of like the little tape recorder in his brain erased a small sketch of time. He still can't remember his day in sequence, but we don't think it's a big thing. In fact, there are some things I would LIKE to forget.
There was a time in fourth grade (maybe it's why I remember fourth grade as one of the hardest grades of my school career) when we were doing "Br'er Rabbit and the Tar Baby". One of the guys in our class was the Tar Baby and I was Br'er Rabbit. I got my teacher's attention and told her - warned her, actually - that I needed to go to the bathroom reeeeeally badly. She insisted I could finish that particular scene before my exit. Well, I couldn't! The Tar Baby ended up with wet shoes and standing in a puddle, while I ran from the room in utter and total humiliation. Or what about the time Dad was out of work and we had to move to the country and live with my grandparents for a while. My sister and I had to attend the little country school there, and I felt like someone from outer space. I didn't fit anywhere. At least that's the way I saw it. My respite was the weekend, when I could tromp the woods and be the free spirit I longed to be. One particular Sunday, I devoured a whole bag of little green apples, in total disregard of the warning that it wasn't a good idea to be eating so many little green apples. The veracity of the warning didn't hit me right away. In fact, it didn't hit me until the next day, during the long, long bus ride home from school - bumping and jostling along those gravel roads. I became a Believer. I mean, I REALLY became a Believer! The second I stepped off that bus, I knew I couldn't wait an instant longer. I squatted right there and did my business with all the kids looking out the bus windows at me. Wow! I still wither just thinking about it. By the grace of God (literally!), that was our last day of school, so I never had to face most of those kids again.
So, while I'm sorry that a portion of my honey's day has vaporated into nothingness, I'm thinking that a failing memory might be good in some areas. There are definitely some things I would like to forget, but, then, what stories would I have to tell my grandchildren??