Always and Never Forgetting
For as long as I can remember I have been forgetful. I leave things everywhere. I can walk off and completely forget something for days. I can still remember as a small kid leaving my favorite sweatshirt behind at a connection gate in an airport. I loved it because it said "Somebody in Texas Loves Me." I cried and cried over that tacky 80's sweatshirt.
In high school, I had to drive back to the school on a weekly basis to get something I had forgotten. In college, I left my car parked on the curb in front of my dorm because I had to pee really bad, and there was no close parking. I had intended to go back out and park the car, but didn't remember about my car until a couple days later. Public safety had towed it. True story. I was too embarrassed to call and find out where it was (and crying too hard) so my roommate called for me. I have lost hoodies and jewelry, shoes, and books...
I've tried as hard as I can to learn to remember things.
Especially now that I am a mom.
I can get pretty upset when I forget things, or lose things. It doesn't just bother me that I forget something or lost something, it weighs heavily on me. It pushes sharply on an insecurity, a fear, a past. The tapes in my head start playing, "Dumb blonde, scatter brain, worthless loser, mess-up, failure..."
So today I almost lost something.
Sweet Caroline has a little pink Hello Kitty coin purse that she stuffed full of coins for our trip to the mall today. She was so excited to help pay for things on our outing. She paid for a carousel ride with her own money and she paid for candy at the little candy dispensers. She picked out chicklets first but then decided as she chewed the first few that they were too hard and that she wanted M&M's. I took her coin purse and set it down next to the candy dispenser and then lifted her up to let her put the money in and turn the nob. I set her down, put the candy in her hand and then we all walked away. I turned the double stroller into Banana Republic for a second and the kids were sweet enough to let me look through the sale rack and then we pressed on down the mall until we came to the little fountain area. Caroline, thinking about the pennies she wanted to throw into the fountain, exclaimed, "Oh no! My money! Where did it go?" I asked her where she had put it last. {Unlike her momma, she is very good at remembering everything, and does a good job keeping up with her things.} "I don't know," she wailed and started to cry.
"Don't cry sweetie, its gotta be here somewhere," I said. We searched the stroller and looked around. I asked her if she had it in the store she shook her head.
"I had it near the candy." She said. We quickly started walking back toward the candy dispensers. At that point I knew in my head what had happened.
I had left her precious coin purse behind.
I was kicking my self {in my head} the whole way back thinking, "What if it is not there? What am I going to do? How will I tell her? She will be so sad..."
As we walk, she says in the sweetest most pathetic voice, "Oh no I think, somebody's going to take it."
"It will be okay baby." I said.
In my head all I could think was, "Please let it be okay, please let it be okay, please let it be okay..."
I held my breath as we turned the corner toward the candy dispensers and with a sigh of relief, there it was.
Just as I had left it.
We cheered and smiled. And I told her I was sorry and then we headed back to the fountain. But as we started walking I couldn't help but think, "Man, my four year old is more responsible than I am." I knew that I had almost just blown it big time. That I had let her down, only it worked out in the end.
I know there have been times when I've messed up, and oh the mommy guilt...and there will be more times ahead when I let my kids down.
How hard to know that I am not perfect.
How hard to accept grace.
How sad that we hurt the ones we love.
My weakness, my failures, my short comings...they will affect my kids. And not just forgetfulness, but my sin.
And the thing is, trying harder is not enough.
Hurt happens. But without hurts we would not know forgiveness and grace.
Family is a classroom for grace. It is where we learn to love. We learn to put our hurts aside and heal someone else with our words, our touch, our presence. Through our mess and imperfections, we can teach each other patience and kindness.
And though I can't promise my kids that I won't forget their things, or their lunches, or their science fair projects. I can promise never to forget grace. I can promise to always forgive. And I can promise that I will always love.
And love never fails.
As I think about her happily throwing coins in the fountain I delight in her joy. I know that I too have a Heavenly Father watching me and He delights in me...forgetfulness and all.
