Remember the Alamo

I have a very noticeable and alarming problem with remembering my life. I’m very serious about this. I cannot remember really important things, like where Marc and I went on our first date or the way my children sounded before they could say their “r’s.” I can’t remember the names of friends with whom I shared a gazillion hours on choir trips in college, even when I see photos in my albums and we’re all flashing smiles that say to the camera, “We will always know each other and would definitely donate internal organs to save each other’s lives!” Don’t remember the organ donors.

I do, however, remember completely unimportant things. I can sing, on demand, the only hit Julian Lennon ever had. I can tell you all the phases of the moon, information that has lingered with me since Mr. Ives’s fifth grade science class. While we’re there, I remember that Mr. Ives was a straight-ticket Republican who named his eldest daughter, Reagan, when NO ONE was naming little girls anything Reagan, unless you meant Nancy.

My friend Kristen is invaluable to me for several reasons but one of them is that she remembers my life. She tells me such great stories about my kids! They are so witty and endearing, my children, but I just can’t remember anything they have said or done. So Kristen reminds me of these things by saying things like, “Remember when Mitch won that award from the Pulitzer committee and gave such a great acceptance speech?” I don’t, of course, remember that, but I chuckle/sigh like I do, ask a few discreet questions and she tells me the whole story!

Everyone needs a friend like Kristen.

I’d love to introduce you to her but I can’t remember your name.

N.B. This is not Mitchell accepting his Pulitzer but isn’t it amazing what one can find on the Internet?