The water runs warm down my back.
I am thinking about what I will wear, what I will write, when I will paint the young ones’ fingernails, when I will share one-on-one time with our oldest.
I am thinking about New Year’s and remembering again that we have no plans. I am thinking about piles I want to unload at Goodwill.
And then I realize, as I do nearly every hair-washing morning when I’m ready to step out of the shower, that I’ve no earthly idea if I’ve washed my hair.
I try retracing steps — the same way I do when I’ve lost the checkbook we use every three months or when a pair of shoes vanishes from our front closet.
Did I twist behind me to reach the bottle? Did I pool cold shampoo in my hand? Did I massage it into lather on my crown? Did a puff of suds run down my legs?
Sometimes I do the whole shebang again for good measure (living by “wash, rinse, repeat,” I guess).
Most of the time, though, I recall one part of the routine, which reminds me that I’d done all manner of things to the outside of my head with the inside of my head somewhere entirely different.
I am a forgetful ninny.
This week, I will forget that wet laundry sits in the washer. I will forget to make important phone calls. I will forget to compliment my children for a job well-done.
I will forget that I am treasured.
I will forget to give thanks.
This week, you will forget that your gloss and shine is not what people love about you. You will forget that doing the right thing can be gut-wrenching. You will forget that you left the keys in the pocket of your other coat.
You will forget that your value is not in your accomplishments or your performance.
You will forget hope.
You will need to be reminded.
And so will I.
What do you need help remembering? What truth can you cling to when you forget? Who helps you remember?