Mind Like a Steel Trap
He hates it.
However, one of the memory skills came in very handy today. I remember birthdays. Half of my first grade class, I can tell you their birthdays (and two of them were September 11th, so I kind of feel bad for them now). My former boss, Elaine, was stunned the year I moved to Florida when I called her to remind her that it was William the UPS guy's birthday the next day and she'd better go over to Mrs. Field's cookies and get him something. (You have to understand that William is the BEST UPS MAN EVER and richly deserved a snack.)
So, back to birthdays. With the passings of family members, Ed now is trying to explore the family tree. His dad was orphaned just prior to the US entering World War I, and the nuns in the orphanage gave him some information that is not backed up by historical accounts. So, one side of his family is lost to the record books.
Then again, maybe not.
In asking for birth dates, wedding dates and names, the papers that have passed through my hands in sorting Jane's apartment out are cataloged in my brain, along with the other details I'd had before. Those numbers that I was able to tap into every time he asked appear to have helped him make some progress along the way of seeing who his ancestors were.
It feels pretty good when he's seeing the benefit of my memory skills.
And then a friend laments a salty marinara sauce and I pulled out a long forgotten tip of throwing a peeled potato in the pot and fishing it out when the sauce is ready to serve because it will draw in the salt.
Sometimes, I wish I could get rid of some of the stuff clogging my brain. Others, I'm thinking that the reason for the Chiari big fat head is that I'm supposed to be a walking reference library.