31 Days Walking Through Chronic Illness
day nineteen
“What’s a memory?” he asked.
“Something as precious as gold, young man,
something as precious as gold.’
Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge~Mem Fox
I love books. Amazon and my sweet man will completely agree with me on this. I also love children’s books.
The year I turned fifty I gave myself a gift. A copy of my all time favorite children’s book, Wilfrid Gorden McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox.
When I cozied up to this book as one of my favorites, I did not have a clue how close to home it would touch. How personal it would become.
Wilfrid, a small boy, grows up next door to an old people’s home. He knew all the people who lived there by name. His favorite was Miss Nancy Alison Delacourt Cooper, because she had four names like him.
Poor Miss Nancy had lost her memory.
Turning descriptive page after page, Wilfrid sets about finding out what a memory is. From one old folk to the next, he gets many sentimental and emotional answers.
Drawing on all the answers he receives, Wilfrid fills a basket with trinkets of things he and Miss Nancy had once talked about, sparking her memory.
“What a dear, strange child to bring me all these wonderful things,” thought Miss Nancy. Then she started to remember.”
Wilfrid Gorden McDonald Partridge by Mem Fox
No, I have not lost my memory. I have lost fragments. Fragments that lie just out of my grasp.
The calendar for instance.
I am never quite sure what day it is, what month, or occasionally what year. Paging back through my journal, there is evidence of this.
I note every appointment on my iPhone, with back up appointment cards going to my sweet sister in law.
I have hurt the feelings of those I love, forgetting birthdays and often mixing up names.
Before I was told three years ago not to drive, I repeatedly misplaced where I parked the car. I lived with a terrible fear I would get lost on the simple drive home. Silently practicing my name and address as I traveled along.
I always took the same route, parked in the same rows, frequented the same places. Adapting coping skills, trying not to draw attention to my struggle.
I finally confessed to my husband, I thought I might have early onset Alzheimer’s. Once we had a diagnosis, he admitted he had worried the same.
Brain fog, causing a temporary memory lapse, comes without warning and unfortunately at the most inopportune times.
I grasp at the edges of my memory for words, places, people, events from the past. Things that are as familiar to me as my own face. Just beyond my reach.
My directional sense, gone.
As we drive around, I am forever asking my man if he is sure we are on the right road, or did he make a wrong turn. This one, usually leads to laughter, as he slows down and questions himself.
This, taking place on the streets and roads we most frequently ride.
I do love to tease him sometimes. Asking if he wants me to drive. “NO,” he emphatically replies.
Scripture memory, well, enough said.
One of the many gifts God has given me in all this, the whisper of a familiar Word when I most need it.
Many times I have set in the bathtub gripped with fear and anxiety, worried the dreaded darkness will overcome me there, scrolling through scriptures He has written on my heart.
Like Miss Nancy’s basket of treasures that sparked her memory, I surround myself with post it notes and index cards. Journaling the lovely things, I am likely to mix up one day.
“She held the warm egg and told Wilfrid Gordon about the tiny speckled blue eggs she had once found in a bird’s nest in her aunt’s garden.
She put a shell to her ear and remembered going to the beach by tram long ago and how hot she had felt in her button~up boots.
She bounced the football to Wilfrid Gordon and remembered the day she had met him and all the secrets they had told.
And the two of them smiled and smiled because Miss Nancy’s memory had been found again by a small boy, who wasn’t very old either.”
Wilfrid Gorden McDonald Partridge~Mem Fox
(a beautiful book for young and old and in~between)
What’s a memory? The priceless, lovely pictures of the things, I treasure in my heart.
Gifts of Grace
Tammy Mashburn
#write31days
write31days.com
https://tlmashburn.wordpress.com/31-days/
Tammy, this is beautiful. Honest and transparent. The verse “think of things that are true and lovely and noble and pure” comes to mind. Thank you for sharing the treasures of your heart.
Now I need to go read Wilfrid Gorden McDonald Partridge. For my kids. For me.
And I am off to read your post, Melanie! Thank you for stopping by!
For the encouraging words. You will love this book!
XO
Tammy
Tammy, what a poignant and transparent post. Love your insights on ‘brain fog’ and please know that as you work through this process you are helping many caregivers who are loving through the fog. Blessings in your journey.
Karen
“Wilfrid Gorden McDonald Partridge” sounds like a beautiful book.
Memories are so precious, and mysterious.
Wow, Tammy. “What’s a memory? The priceless, lovely pictures of the things, I treasure in my heart.” I love that God gives you the memory of His Word when you need it.
I have never heard of this book but I am going to go look it up. Thank you for sharing your heart with us.
I’m in tears my new friend. Your words are beautiful! Your heart is transparent. Thank you for sharing… “What is a memory?” A question many of us take forgranted…(((HUGS))) from across the country!
Thank you Friend! Your words encouraging and appreciated. I’m so glad to have made new friends in this walk of write 31 days! Makes all the hard work worth it!
XO
Tammy
I don,t remember this Book but will have to get it. I do remember you always playing very quietly.
Never bothered anything till your Brother came along.A jewel he was as a child. You did not have
a lot of quiet time as he got older. You two were very close and did well together. You would let me
know when he was doing something he should not be doing. Not to many squabbles. I really liked
this. Will help my memory also.
Love you,
Mom