I forget, but I care

I forget things all the time.

But I don’t mean to.

Friends or colleagues who have spent any time around me quickly catch on to the fact that a simple conversation the day before, or a piece of data they shared will move into the space in my brain reserved for thoughts that disappear forever.

This used to bother me.

I thought something was wrong with how my brain worked—I can’t refute that concern actually, but this is the brain I’ve got and I’m sticking with it until CRISPR is ready for primetime. I don’t love it, but I haven’t found a way to permanently adjust and remember more things arbitrarily.

Technology helps.

Often I’ll write things down. I can’t catch it all, but many things I’m able to document, and that improves my retention.

The problem is when a friend reminds me that they already told me something, multiple times. It gets old for them, but I’ve appreciated the patience as eventually facts click and the bits of data will move into hard storage.

The ironic point is some silly things absolutely stick. Things that I shouldn’t need to remember seem interesting for some inconceivable reason, and stay with me for years. Dates work that way. I can trace back to almost any year of my life and remember where I was and what I was doing.

I’ve tried to make up for the gaps in memory by being present, asking questions, and showing up for people. For some it’s enough, and I’m thankful.