Forgetfulness

Got up late, since I was up late giving directions, falling into sand traps and talking about life and its great potentials. After reorienting this morning, and packing to go home, we were off back to the airport.

It was sweet to watch Gerald make Melanie a snack to eat on the way to the airport. He was performing the airport shuttle responsibilities (I was going to Tampa, she was flying out Clearwater/St. Pete) and we were looking at the pictures from last night when it hit me: I left my cell phone back in his condo. Thankfully we weren't that far away yet and Tracy was able to get it and meet us halfway (thanks, Tracy!), but I felt so stupid. I just couldn't believe that I had, once again, left something pretty important as I was packing up to leave.

Being forgetful seems to always happen to me in about those kinds of things, and the little details never leave my mind. I could tell you with some certainty was was worn here, or where I ate a meal with someone that they might have felt was less memorable. I will notice and remember the smallest things, but I struggle with remembering the name of a person who I just talked to. Then, 20 years later, I could spot them in a crowd and remember most of the conversation, but still not their name.

My greatest fashion faux pas is the fact that I often forget to zip up my pants. (God, why am I admitting this here??) But it truly is something that I need to consciously think about when I am about to walk out of the house in the morning. Or to take my medicine when I've laid it out. Or to grab my phone, which is lying on the bed, and without which I would be lost.

But I will say: there is something nice about not being so tethered to the phone. I was without the phone for six hours yesterday evening, and didn't miss it a bit. It's my business life. It's the tie to my kids. But it's not a tool for distraction or hurt. It's just a tool.

Maybe forgetting it was just one more step away from it no longer ruling my life.