When The Memories Fade

A couple of weeks ago I asked Alethia what Masumba meant.

Masumba is Luganda for Pastor.

She replied with an innocent, "I don't know."

Later that week we saw a picture of one of her dearest friends from the Babies Home on Facebook.  He entered into his forever family while we were in Uganda so they got to spend many of their last days in Uganda together.  After pointing to the little boy in the picture and excitedly asking Alethia who that was, the blank stare and questioning facial expression was enough for me stop in my tracks.

I began to scroll down the Facebook page to more pictures of him, hoping to see the lightbulb go off in her head.

Nothing.

Finally, we got closer to the time we were all in Uganda together.  We saw one of the pictures of him with his new family in what was clearly a Ugandan backdrop and she lit up..."It's Cade!!!!"

I was so relieved that she remembered.

But heartbroken at the same time, because it took so long.

I guess I'm not allowed to be selective about her memories of the first three years of her life, but oh, how I would give anything to just gather up the GOOD memories for her to keep in her little box!

It's so sad to me that she just stares at us when we use any Luganda words now (besides Jangu, which means "come here" - for some reason Cai responds better to that command in Luganda! This word is used almost on a daily basis), or when we talk about someone from the babies home and she doesn't even respond.

I guess I should be happy that her whole world is beginning to be wrapped around memories of us!  That thrills me, it really does.

A part of me just wants her to be able to remember where she came from.

The Aunties who loved her so deeply.
Her friends in the Babies Home.
The provisions the Lord's hand provided in spite of her not having a family.
The beautiful landscape.
The language(s) she once knew.
The simple.
The generous.
The staff at the guesthouse.
The food.

This just means that we are going to have to be intentional about refreshing the memories of our time there together as we treasure the new memories we are making together.

But it is so beautiful to be reminded that the Lord is constant...in the past, in the present, no matter the memories...He is constant...His hand on her life is constant, and we will grow old reminding her of that!