The Thing I forgot

On her way out the door, my wife stopped in the entryway and waited until I looked up from doing what I was doing.

Confident she had my full attention, she warned, “Don’t forget!”

Too late.

I already had.

I knew there was something I was supposed to remember, but I couldn’t recall what it was. At least I had remembered I was supposed to remember something – which for me was about as good as it gets.

Could it be the trash?

No, I forgot about that yesterday.

I only remembered that yesterday was trash day when I encountered Otis, our trash hauler, on the road a couple of miles from home. He is good about those things though; even if you forget to haul the cart to the road, Otis will get out of his truck and walk up the driveway to fetch it.

All you have to do is to remember to fill the cart.

Which I rarely do.

Was I supposed to call the veterinarian to get Twiggy fixed?

Twiggy is the calico cat who wandered into our yard last winter. She was pregnant at the time and has dropped two litters of kittens since. I keep forgetting to get her fixed and she keeps remembering her old boyfriends.

Her third litter is on the way, so it is too late to remember to do anything about it.

Was it a birthday?

A holiday?

An anniversary?

I don’t usually worry about those things because my wife keeps tabs on special occasions. She is the family social director and never misses a celebration. All I have to remember is her birthday and our anniversary. I get help with that from the calendar on my smart phone.

Maybe that’s a clue.

I checked my smart phone to see if there was an entry for today. There wasn’t, though I might have forgotten to enter one.

Why am I forgetting things?

I blame it on retirement. Having no place to go and nothing pressing to do means having little to remember. Memory is something you either use or lose and it must be constantly honed against the rock of everyday struggles to stay sharp.

This comes naturally while you are working but once you are retired, the rock of daily struggles becomes as soft as soapstone and you forget things – especially things you don’t want to remember.

That also might be a clue.

Was it something I wanted to forget? I doubt it. If it was, I would remember that. Besides my wife would never allow me to forget something I wanted to forget.

But what was she trying to remind me of earlier?

I asked her when she got home.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed, “You were supposed to remind me to pay the credit card bill. Now we are going to get clipped with a late-fee.”

Now I remember.

Author: Almost Iowa

www.almostiowa.com

35 thoughts on “The Thing I forgot”

    1. It’s actually kind of fun, we have yellow post-it note pads everywhere. We just have to remember that they are for. Now where did I put the grocery list pad?

  3. “Having no place to go and nothing pressing to do means having little to remember.”

    I’ve noticed that, too. But I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. Mondays no longer mean getting up early, books not brought back to library can be brought back the next day. Knowing something happened on a Thursday, rather than a Wednesday is not a big deal. The weekdays don’t section themselves off like they used to.
    The plus is I’m more aware of the color of the setting sun, how far along the tree buds are, and the lazy, fat squirrel snoozing on my deck banister. So, little to remember, but lots to notice!

  4. Oops! What was I going to type? Oh well. Can’t wait to read the next thing you write about.

  5. I’m in my thirties and can relate. 😀
    I love that she wanted you to not forget to remind her. She obviously should have just done it when she remembered to remind you.

  6. LOL! This is already starting for my husband and me! We can’t remember ANYTHING. I have a written calendar, a google calendar, and a post-it calendar on the wall all marked up, and we STILL FORGET!

    1. A few years ago when I was working everyone else carried day planners. I never needed one. Now I keep a notepad handy just to remember what time I am supposed to eat supper. 🙂

  9. The beauty of a small town was apparent when the Tax collector called and told us we had until five o’clock to run down and pay our property tax without penalty. Life saver.

  11. Welcome to my life! And the old “what was I just going to do?” routine is annoying. Once you start forgetting things, there’s no telling how much you’re forgetting. Unless you have someone who is constantly reminding you of what you forgot. Then they become annoying! Lol.

    Old age……love it or hate it, it beats the alternative!
    🔹Ginger🔹

    1. I thought up a clever riposte to your comment, then sometime between clicking on the “reply” button and moving my cursor to the “Leave a reply” textbox, I forgot what it was. All I remember is that it was VERY clever. 🙂

      1. Well, if you remember your ‘clever riposte’, don’t trouble yourself with sharing it. It’s very unlikely I will remember to check in to find out if you remembered it!! Lol.
        🔹Ginger🔹

    1. Ah Grasshopper. meditate upon the art of marital jujitsu. The appropriate counter stroke to “the advance transfer of blame” is “there you go again, forgetting that I reminded you.”

  14. Now I’m trying to remember what I’ve surely forgotten. Who knows how much I’ve forgotten that was important? At least I remembered to get my taxes in, so I can forget about that for another year. The only thing that really frustrates me is the really short-term memory loss that can leave me wondering why I just walked into another room. Fifteen seconds isn’t much of a window.

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