I took my brother to see the doctor. A handsome young man entered the room and said, "Hello, Patriarch Kerns."

I had never seen him before in my life. (At least that's what I would have said, had I been asked). I asked who he was. I was distressed to learn that I did know him. He had even been in my house. I had given his daughter her patriarchal blessing.

This happens over and over. It's embarrassing. At one time I prided myself in thinking that I knew nearly everyone in the stake. Now that I am the stake patriarch I am again sitting up on the stand in stake meetings. I look over the congregation, and I ask myself, "What is the name of that man sitting in the back of the room? I worked with him 30 years ago." I might puzzle over that question for the entire meeting. Eventually the name will suddenly pop into my head. I've always been good at remembering people.

President Kerns was good at remembering names and faces, but Patriarch Kerns is not. Patriarch Kerns even makes mental notes to try to remember this outstanding young person to whom he has just given a blessing, and he can't do it.

My grandson asked if I remember the blessings that I give. I do not. I can't even remember the people. I don't think that I'm supposed to. A patriarchal blessing is sacred personal scripture. (Russell M. Nelson, Liahona, May 2023, p. 42). Being sacred, it isn't shared with others. It's private. Therefore, even the giver of the blessing finds that it's wiped from his mind.

Helaman in the Book of Mormon says, "Remember, remember ...," but in this case I can't.

However, memory is a wonderful thing that needs to be practiced, used, propagated, and augmented. Memorizing poems, scriptures, and hymns is wonderful mental exercise, and is good for the mind. I sat beside my 17-year-old grandson in stake priesthood meeting. When the hymns were announced he picked up a hymn book, but as I watched out of the corner of my eye, he never looked at it. He sang all the words. He had the hymns memorized. I was amazed. I've sung those hymns for over 50 years, and they're not that embedded in my mind. One of the hymns that we sang was one of my favorites. I, too, have it memorized, but I had to look at the book to see how each verse began. Gideon didn't.

My granddaughter, Anne, sits down at the piano and pounds out complicated classical pieces of music by Liszt, Beethoven, and Debussy, and she does it from memory! There is no music in front of her. How on earth can she do that?

My wife says that it's "muscle memory." When Marjorie is learning a new piece she initially goes through it slowly. If there is a difficult section where she might be making mistakes, she plays it over and over again until she can do it perfectly. She says that she's training her fingers where to go. She gradually plays the piece faster until she has it up to speed. As a girl she found that she did best in recitals when she didn't try to think about what she was playing. She did best if she "just zoned out" and let her fingers do the performing.

She says that's also what horse trainers do. They take the horse through the routine slowly, and do it time after time. They do the routine over and over until it's up to speed. Then when the time comes to perform, the horse knows exactly what the next move is to be, can ignore the crowd, and accurately does what it's supposed to do.

That's muscle memory. Another example of muscle memory is typing. I'm a good typist. My fingers don't have to think about where to go. Typing is like playing the piano, but I can't play the piano, and Marjorie can't type. It's all about muscle memory, and what you're trained to do.

One purpose of the Holy Ghost is to "bring all things to your remembrance." (John 14:26). What a valuable gift to have!

Dave Huntsman asked if I would take his son, Raul, to his dialysis treatment on a particular day two days hence. I said, "Sure." I then gave it not another thought. The morning of the treatment arrived. At the exact time that I should have been leaving, a gong went off in my head. There is no earthly reason why I should have remembered that appointment, because I hadn't given it a thought in the previous 48 hours. There was no earthly reason, but there was a heavenly reason. The Holy Ghost was saying, "Go!" I rushed to my car, and pulled up to Raul's front door just when I was supposed to be there. I was amazed and grateful. All the way to La Grande I marveled over what had just happened.

On another occasion the Holy Ghost was apparently not able to reach me, and had to go through my wife. I was in the field above the house baling hay, and making wonderful progress, when one of my children was sent up to talk to me. I was asked, "Don't you have a funeral to conduct?"

Lightning struck, and sent me flying to the house. My wife held my suit as I leaped into it. I sped to the funeral home and found a waiting congregation. I was only five minutes late, and was grateful beyond words for the Holy Ghost and for a wife who normally didn't keep track of her husband's duties and appointments. The funeral was for a non-member man whom I had never met. I didn't even have a sermon prepared. How disastrous would it have been if I had missed the whole thing? What would they have done? I didn't confess about what had happened, but just calmly did what I'd done so many times before. Thank goodness for muscle memory. The muscle that is my brain got too relaxed, but was able to carry the day because it had gone through the routine before.

The memory of our pre-earth existence was wiped from our computers before we came here. Our memory banks were wiped clean. Just imagine how much we used to know. We knew the Father and our Savior, we understood their plan of salvation, we knew the heavenly language and how to read it. All of that was erased, and we had to start over. I don't imagine that at age 78 I have even come close to knowing what I used to know. Soon now, I'll pass to the other side, and all that will be restored. I miss my memory.

So does Marjorie. She is well into a state of dementia where her memory bank has been wiped clean again. Not only does she not remember her pre-earth state, she doesn't remember her mortal experiences, either. It's tough. It's frustrating--for both of us. She may ask the same question 20 times in a day: "Where are we going? Why are we going there? What day is it? Who is this person we're going to see?" I'm her memory. I patiently answer the question all over again, just like I did five minutes ago.

Cherish your memory. Work to improve it. Be grateful for the Holy Ghost. Consider these admonitions:

"And remember to keep his commandments always in all things." (1 Nephi 15:25).

"Remember the awfulness in transgressing against that Holy God." (2 Nephi 9:39).

"Prepare your souls ... that ye may not remember your awful guilt in perfectness." (2 Nephi 9:46).

"Remember to search (the scriptures) diligently." (Mosiah 1:7).

"But this much I can tell you, that if ye do not watch yourselves, and your thoughts, and your words, and your deeds, and observe the commandments of God, and continue in the faith of what ye have heard concerning the coming of our Lord, even unto the end of your lives, ye must perish. And now, O man, remember, and perish not." (Mosiah 4:30).

"And this shall ye do in remembrance of my body, which I have shown unto you. And it shall be a testimony unto the Father that ye do always remember me. And if ye do always remember me ye shall have my Spirit to be with you ... and ye shall do it in remembrance of my blood, which I have shed for you, that ye may witness unto the Father that ye do always remember me. And if ye do always remember me ye shall have my Spirit to be with you." (3 Nephi 18:7 and 11).

And lastly, consider this wonderful, remarkable promise:

"Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I the Lord,  remember them no more." (D&C 58:42).