I’d like to start by stating that I have difficulty with my short-term memory, and my long-term memory, or for that matter my short-term memory. How many times a week do I find myself standing in a room to get, uh…, something… It’s possible I have rented movies more than once (thinking the plot was familiar but still watching the entire movie because I can’t remember how it ends). But the real struggle for me are names; remembering names = not my spiritual gift. And I still have senility to look forward to. However, since Jake and I met I have never, not once, forgotten his birthday (never mind that its 12/24), our wedding anniversary (11 years this August) or Valentine’s Day.
So, Jake woke up one winter’s morning, made himself a pot of tea, and opened his computer to find that it was ALL OF A SUDDEN February 14th, and further, that he had not readied a gift, box of chocolates, heart-shaped-token-of-his-love, and/or Hallmark sentiment inscribed on paper, intended for yours truly. He knew it would be at least another hour before I would wake so he went to the office, shut the door, and covertly wrote me a “happy-valentine’s-day” song.
It is true that this was not the first time Jake had written me a song. Since we met in 1995 there have been many songs collected under the heading Songs For Jeni. There was an initial “do-you-like-me-check-1-box” song, an “I’m-super-sorry-and-was-clearly-in-the-wrong” song, a “time-out-from-the-fight-du-jour” song, a nervous “will-you-marry-me?” song, several years later a “wow-marriage-is-kinda-hard” song, just to name a few. One time he wrote a song about us dancing in the kitchen and how the microwave beeped in time with Ella singing on the stereo in the living room. Inspiration for this man abounds.
So, you would think that yet another song in this catalog would maybe be, what? Typical, expected, routine?
And here’s the thing. When you’re married to the same person you work with, vacation with, record, tour, perform, volunteer, socialize and live with, there isn’t much of a surprise element left. And yet, every time he writes a song for me, about me, or with me in mind, I am always surprised. And flattered and touched and grateful. With every song I fall in love again, (even if it’s an “I’m sorry” song) and truly, how many times does a girl get to fall in love in one lifetime? In my mind’s eye I imagine carefully placing that song in the menagerie with the others, like the very precious, fragile thing that it is.
Once when I was 16 I found myself at a luncheon seated next to the Mayor. Embarrassing moment #1: After introducing myself I asked what he did for a living. Embarrassing moment #2: The moment he uttered his name, I forgot it, while Mr. Mayor spent the entire luncheon over using my name, clearly trying to prove a point. “Jeni, could you pass the salt.” “What do you think, Jeni?” “…and you know what, Jeni, I said my mechanic…” “blah, blah, blah, Jeni, blah, blah….”
Embarrassing moment #3: he was the keynote speaker of the luncheon.
I have real anxiety about my upcoming high school reunion (let’s just call it my 10th) for this exact reason. Does anyone know if they have self-adhesive nametags at these functions? Or am I going to have to cram for the reunion? I’ve always said that names would be so much easier to remember if they were set to music, i.e. lyrics. Which is probably why I know all the words to all the songs Jake has written for me. Most importantly, I can easily recall how each of those songs made me feel; heard, loved, understood, thought of. In that way my memory is like a steel trap.
In other ways, not so much.

