I Think I'm Loosing It.

Have you ever been so focused on one thing that you forget something else? I did that. Or should I say, I do that. When our vacation was coming to an end, after a great twelve days, we starting to pack the car the night before the drive home. Put most of the things in the car and then realized the way we were doing this, everything would not go in. So, we unpacked the car, set everything down on the driveway and started again.
It went very well the second time. Before we knew it, everything was in and we were ready for morning. Early the next morning, well, very late that night, or whatever, it was 2:00 a.m. when we got up and climbed in the car for our twenty two-hour drive home. Things went famously until the mountains of West Virginia over heated the transmission and we had to make an eight-day detour.
By the time we had the car back to Canada we were ready to empty it out onto another driveway. It went satisfactorily as we reacquainting ourselves to all the items we had packed. That was, until I asked if anyone had seen a bag of “splat balls” for the children at church. Everyone replied with a definite no except one voice replied they had last seen they on the other driveway.
A long distance call and an email brought word they were not there. That was two months ago.
Well, we made another trip in the mean time and personally looked everywhere while we were there. To no avail. The only thing we could do was to buy more. Lucky for me, or unlucky depending on how you view this whole episode, they were discounted and I was able to get replacements. You also need to know we had to go out of our way to go and get them. It was good to go into church a few weeks ago and give them out to the children who had requested them.
But here is the twist. This past week, I was to chauffeur some people around and decided to clean out the car. It went famously. Looked clean and tidy until I noticed a corner of a white plastic bag under the drivers seat. Saying to myself, “Self, how did that get there?” Reaching under the seat as far as I could, I grabbed the corner of the bag and pulled. Now don’t get ahead of me. Wait for it. Along with the bag came fifteen “splat balls.”
Barbara, stop laughing and pick Bernard up off the floor. To tell the truth, I was laughing as well. Laughing at myself. Now, what do I do with fifteen splat balls. By the way, splat balls are to be thrown gently at any surface where they go flat and then slowly go back to being in their original shape.
I spend time with some residents at Macassa Lodge. Wonderful people. Some are special people with problems of the memory. Every time I see them, they ask my name, and who I am. But one wonderful thing most of them still remember. Something they have never lost. And they are the words we all sing together.
Jesus Loves Me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so,
Little ones to Him belong,
They are sweet and He is strong.
Yes, Jesus . . . .
Something to think about
Rob