The older I get the more I realize that memory is tricky. I can remember the address and phone number of the house I lived in when I was 5 (2470 Highway 66, Zone 2, St. Louis, MO. Harrison 8;7378) but I can't remember which of my kids or Grandkids I'm talking to. I seem to start at the oldest child and work my way down, including the names of all the pets we've ever had, too.

But it's nice to know I'm not the only one with this affliction. A number of years ago, the church I was serving received a memorial gift to the Church. There was a short note written on a beautiful little card that describing who they wanted to honor. It said the usual thing, "Enclosed you will find a check to be used as a memorial for..." Unfortunately, the person who sent it forgot to sign the note AND to enclose …