Forget, 25.4.17

I’ve been thinking about remembering.  I flatter myself to think that I have a good memory, for the useless as well as the useful. Sometimes they’re the same thing.  For instance, I once won £20 from a quiz machine at Heston services on the M4 for knowing which sport is associated with the Drysdale Cup.  It’s squash.

The other day I was out with my son, Silas, and parked the car in one of those places where you have to pay by phone. I hate them. I know my bankcard number by heart.  But what I can never for the life of me remember is my car registration.

Silas went to check, and as he did, my mind ticked over the cars of my childhood.  Maroon Ford Anglia, PVG14. White Cortina Estate, NLB904E. Maroon Ford Zephyr, YUB179J.  Maroon Austin Princess, SEW406S.  What was it with my parents and maroon cars?  What is it with me and being able to remember their number plates?

The thing is that for everything I wish I could remember, there is something I don’t care about taking up space in my cluttered mind.

But perhaps more importantly, for everything I do remember, there is something I truly wish I could forget.  All the things I wish I’d never done but still make me sweat in the night.  All the slights and offences I haven’t really forgiven. It’s not healthy.

In the bible, King David knew what it felt like to be haunted by the past and he begged God: “Remember your great mercy and love…and remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways.”

And Christians believe that God does that.  He says of himself that, “I am he who blots out your transgressions and remembers your sins no more.” God forgets, because he knows that once something is forgotten, you can make a start on something new.

Remembering is good.  But I reckon that forgetting is crucial, not just for freeing up space on your mental hard-drive, but for letting go of things that make us unhappy.  Sometimes we need to forget in order to be free.

And, for what it’s worth, my car registration is PRX480X.

No.  That’s the blue Renault 4 I bought in 1987.

But my bankcard number is… 

Darn. Out of time.

We talked before this pause about superpowers. I have warm hands.

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