It's a Gift... and a Curse

If you've ever watched USA's show "Monk" you've heard the main detective repeat a phrase, when referring to his wonderful photographic memory and/or ability to remember strange details that seemingly have nothing to do with anything. Someone inevitably says, "Wow, that's amazing! How do you do that?" And he replies, "It's a gift... and a curse."

I've been saying that phrase a lot lately, because I have, by comparative standards, a pretty darn good memory. And I remember random things that I shouldn't, like what clothes someone was wearing the time I met their fiancee's brother's girlfriend. And because I can remember random things like that, I guess it goes without saying that I also remember important things. Sometimes I can repeat a conversation verbatim. And I'm not saying all of this to brag, but actually to complain, because more often than not, I'm frustrated with my memory. It's great when I can remember when something happened or who said what or some important story that someone told me. It really is a gift that we can remember great times with people, and for me it's even better that I can remember so many details from those experiences. But what's frustrating is when I'm the only person who remembers it. I find myself getting extremely bored in conversations with some people, because they repeat themselves. A lot. They tell the same stories every time I'm with them, and I remember them. Every stinking detail. In fact, I correct people in their own stories sometimes because apparently I remembered the details better than they did. It's overly frustrating for me when I talk to someone and they ask me questions that they asked in the last conversation, as if they never asked them. Grrr.

That is why it's a curse. It's also a curse because it makes it a lot harder to forget painful things. I guess a lot of people don't remember everything that happens to them, or everything a person says. The sad thing for me is when someone hurts me, they hardly ever remember the experience if I bring it up. And then I wonder if I should have brought it up at all. I suppose most people remember getting hurt.

It bruises your soul and those bruises stay around for a while. But what does that mean for someone who doesn't easily forget? We talked about this in my adult bible community on Sunday. Our teacher was talking about demonstrating the love that's poetically examined in First Corinthians 13. Love is patient, love is kind... love does not keep a record of wrong... She said that that means you have to decide you're going to forget. You can't just decide to do that if pain is still tearing at you, so first you have to deal with it. And then you decide to forget. Maybe you can't forget forget, but you can choose not to dwell on your hurts. She said that remembering it is a way of controlling your situation and holding the pain against a person.

And I do that. It's not always because I want to. Most of the time, I'd much rather just forget all of those hurtful experiences and move on in a relationship. But when I can remember, I feel justified in whatever feelings I have toward them. And I feel like I'm doing an act of mercy by remaining their friend or choosing to love them. but that isn't how God's love works, I guess.
i wish things like this were easier to figure out.