Don’t remind me.
Two words, one conjunction (already I can hear the sounds of “Conjunction junction, what’s your function?” playing because I may be a bit obsessed with School House Rock, to whom I owe the name of this blog). Don’t remind me. It’s a desperate cry for forgetfulness.
Today I have used it with approximately 17 people. The interactions usually go something like this:
Nice, Inquiring Person: So Hilary, have you packed for DC yet?
Anxious, Cranky Hilary: NO! Don’t remind me!
Interested, Curious Person: Have you thought about life after college, Hilary?
Hilary: NO! Definitely not! Don’t remind me that there is life outside college! Don’t remind me that there is a possibility that I am going to have to make more choices about schools, loans, cars, apartments, spouses, jobs, music, slow vs. fast food movements, veganism and hedonism, churches, salsa vs. tap dancing, or anything else! Don’t remind me!
Okay, I may be exaggerating here. It’s definitely possible that my response sounds more like, “No, not yet! I’m still pondering my many options and keeping my mind engaged with the pressing problems of my young life!” Okay, maybe my answers don’t sound like that either. But in any case, I have spent the day talking about not being reminded of what needs to be accomplished or thought about.
In most situations, I feel like we want to be reminded. Post-It has made a fortune on the fact that people don’t want to forget things – though who sat down one day and said, “I guess I’ll make these little bits of paper that could get lost anywhere and are only slightly sticky enough to stick to a flat surface and charge people plenty of money for them in ugly fluorescent colors” remains a mystery to me. Is there a Mr. Post somewhere? A Ms. It? Did they marry and create the Post-It hyphenation? Or are they just like all the cool bloggers out there who came up with a title just like *that* (that's my virtual finger snap) and added punctuation (Post It!) for extra flair?
In any case, we want to be reminded. We write ourselves notes, to do lists. We slap our foreheads and curse when we’ve forgotten something. We wish that we could have remembered the new girl’s name. We train our pets to remember commands. We value memory.
So why, then, when something looms on the horizon, do we find ourselves saying, “Don’t remind me!”? Why do we ask, in the moment when we probably need to remember something the most, to forget it?
Right now I’m trying to forget that I’m leaving. Trying to forget that I have a massive amount of squashing things into my suitcase to complete. Trying to ignore the large neon sign blinking, “HILARY IS LEAVING IN 2 DAYS!” that seems to have parked itself permanently above my head. And while I know I would be happy as a clam to forget the entire trip to DC, to arrive at Gordon and say, “Hey guys! I changed my mind! I’m going to stay here forever and live on Wilson 1 North for the rest of my life!” I know that isn’t what God has in mind for me. He has intentions beyond my imagining and definitely beyond my stubborn efforts to forget. He has visions for my life, and a will, and a purpose, that far outstrip my ability to rebel (though I’ll likely give it a try). He is not going to let me forget that I am going to DC. He is also not going to let me forget that this journey is full of His plans.