Memory Is A Funny Thing

Memory is a funny thing – Haruki Murakami

As I grow older, I find memory to be a funny thing. I can remember things from my childhood days and yet I can sometimes forget things that happen moments earlier.

My memory can really play tricks on me, often in the most embarrassing way.

I was having a meeting with my boss some fifteen years ago when my mind suddenly seemed to go blank. No matter how hard I tried, I could not recall the name of my boss’ secretary. Shortly after the meeting, the name of the secretary just popped into my mind.

On another occasion, I was in a Bible study with a group of about eight others. We ended the session with a corporate prayer whereby we took turns to pray for each and every one of the other members of the group. When my turn came, I could say prayers for all members of the group except for one.  I racked my brain for his name but my mind just did not want to co-operate. Another member sitting opposite me tried to help me by whispering the guy’s name but I did not hear his whisper. The guy whose name I forgot was a close friend so it was downright embarrassing. I apologised to him but he told me it was okay as he could understand the occurrence of short-term memory lapses.

I find it frustrating when I cannot remember where I park my car. I remember an occasion a few years ago when I went out for lunch and parked my car in front of a restaurant a couple of minutes’ walk from my office. After lunch, I forgot about my car and just walked back to my office. At the end of the day, I went to the car park behind my office where I usually parked my car. I panicked when I could not find my car and thought it had been stolen.  I asked the staff of a Malay restaurant behind my office whether he had seen anyone driving away my car. He told me that he had seen my car parked in front of a restaurant not far away. I rushed there and true enough, my car was there in front of the restaurant where I had my lunch.

Because of my above experience, I have empathy for the woman in the following story that I read online:

After a meeting I was coming out of a hotel and I was looking for my car keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room… it wasn’t there.

Suddenly I realized I must have left them in the car. My husband has shouted many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is, the ignition is the best place not to lose them. His theory is that the car will be stolen. Immediately I rushed to the parking lot, I came to a terrifying conclusion. His theory was right. The parking lot was empty.

I immediately called the police. I gave them my location, car number and description of the place where I parked etc. I equally confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen.

Then I made the most difficult call of all, to my husband!!!

“Honey,I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen.” I stammered. I always call him “honey” in times like these.

There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard his voice.

“Idiot”, he shouted, “I dropped you at the hotel !”

Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.”

He shouted again, “I will, as soon as I manage to convince this policeman that I have not stolen your car.”

Some memories stick with us for life. Some just fade away with the passage of time. Sometimes we forget things that we do just moments earlier. It is strange but we tend to retain memories of injustice and wrongdoings that we have experienced when such memories are the ones that we should forget.

Memory. It’s a funny thing.