Musings of the Forgetful
As I start recovering I'm still not immune from forgetting things. Friday, still in a fog, I needed to go for a drive. Not a good idea, I know, but take heart, I ran out of gas about four blocks from my house.
I walked to the gas station hoping that they'd have a gas can. No can do. A woman who was at the checkout said "I have a gas can you can borrow". So she gave me her address, and wrote down her name. As I walked back to my car I couldn't figure out if she looked familiar, sounded familiar, or if perhaps she was someone who was new to the Heights.
It took me forever to figure out how to use the nozzle on the gas can. Then I figured out that the nozzle collapsed and no, I should not unscrew it. The encounter with this woman was still with me. Her kindness was exceptional.
So I drove over to her street and she was out tending the garden. As I pulled up I realized she was the mother of a guy named Randy, who was the first boy I ever kissed. I had thanked her for use of the gas can and said, "you're Randy's mother, I'm one of the neighborhood kids" and I named off about six of us who used to hang out. Turns out Randy really did run off and join the circus. In fact he is travelling with them in Virginia.
Last week I misspelled my last name. I'm not dyslexic but I have had many moments lately where I begin to write and I start at the middle of the word. The name I wrote was the last name of a guy I knew from my early twenties. I looked him up. He's an actor now. He's even been on some of my favorite shows.
There was one other one. It'll come to me though.
But one thing I saw in the last couple of days sort of summed up a lifelong challenge and lesson for me. Sometimes things are right in front of you and entirely too clear for you to understand them, even in your sharpest moments. It was a card that read:
It was a quote by Louis l'Amour. If anything could be the story of my life, that's it. The search for perfection within myself. To be the smartest I can be, the quickest, toughest, quaintest, socialized, most mysterious, most successful, spiritually realized, and most important, none of these things can happen unless I am the healthiest I can be.
And that might never happen. I may never have the perfect health I always expected would come to me. That I would grow into. A health that would allow me to manifest my life as I have always wanted to. And to do that in the glow of having the most menial, granular, seemingly insignificant aspects of my health looked after, and not constantly needing to remind or seek monitoring.
Many double takes and coincidences and repeats have gone on over the past few months. I don't know how many times I have asked the same questions, done the same task, or completely forgotten things. Having those glimpses of little reminders of things I knew long ago were comforting. The biggest surprise was in eventually knowing that I was missed. As odd as that will sound, if you lose you, everyone will miss you.
Even you will miss you.
I walked to the gas station hoping that they'd have a gas can. No can do. A woman who was at the checkout said "I have a gas can you can borrow". So she gave me her address, and wrote down her name. As I walked back to my car I couldn't figure out if she looked familiar, sounded familiar, or if perhaps she was someone who was new to the Heights.
It took me forever to figure out how to use the nozzle on the gas can. Then I figured out that the nozzle collapsed and no, I should not unscrew it. The encounter with this woman was still with me. Her kindness was exceptional.
So I drove over to her street and she was out tending the garden. As I pulled up I realized she was the mother of a guy named Randy, who was the first boy I ever kissed. I had thanked her for use of the gas can and said, "you're Randy's mother, I'm one of the neighborhood kids" and I named off about six of us who used to hang out. Turns out Randy really did run off and join the circus. In fact he is travelling with them in Virginia.
Last week I misspelled my last name. I'm not dyslexic but I have had many moments lately where I begin to write and I start at the middle of the word. The name I wrote was the last name of a guy I knew from my early twenties. I looked him up. He's an actor now. He's even been on some of my favorite shows.
There was one other one. It'll come to me though.
But one thing I saw in the last couple of days sort of summed up a lifelong challenge and lesson for me. Sometimes things are right in front of you and entirely too clear for you to understand them, even in your sharpest moments. It was a card that read:
"There will come a time when you think everything is finished. That will be the beginning"
It was a quote by Louis l'Amour. If anything could be the story of my life, that's it. The search for perfection within myself. To be the smartest I can be, the quickest, toughest, quaintest, socialized, most mysterious, most successful, spiritually realized, and most important, none of these things can happen unless I am the healthiest I can be.
And that might never happen. I may never have the perfect health I always expected would come to me. That I would grow into. A health that would allow me to manifest my life as I have always wanted to. And to do that in the glow of having the most menial, granular, seemingly insignificant aspects of my health looked after, and not constantly needing to remind or seek monitoring.
Many double takes and coincidences and repeats have gone on over the past few months. I don't know how many times I have asked the same questions, done the same task, or completely forgotten things. Having those glimpses of little reminders of things I knew long ago were comforting. The biggest surprise was in eventually knowing that I was missed. As odd as that will sound, if you lose you, everyone will miss you.
Even you will miss you.
posted by Phelony Jones at 9:46 PM
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