One of Maddie’s gifts is her nearly infallible memory. It was evident when she was a toddler and would wipe the floor with me playing that game where you turn over cards to find matches. I never beat her, not once. Occasionally I would come close to a tie, but mostly the scores would be so lopsided it was ridiculous. Thirty-two pairs to four, perhaps. And I was trying! I really was!

And then there was the USA map puzzle, which she mastered before she could really talk.

When we were in the car, she would recognize the neighborhood we were in. “Lily’s house!” she would shout, even though were a couple streets away. She was only two.

This weekend I decided to bite the bullet and drive her to my sister’s house. I love being there, and I’m so happy to get the cousins/best friends together, but traffic can be a bear. A 45-minute drive might be twice that. Each way. You never know. Sure enough, about half way there, traffic came to a dead stop.

“I know Grammy takes a different way sometimes, but I don’t know the way,” I thought aloud.

“Take San Antonio Road,” said Maddie. “It’s by the dump. You’ll be on a road parallel to the freeway for a few miles and then get back on.”

“That’s what Grammy does?” I asked.

“Well, she did it once.”

“How do you remember that, Maddie?” I asked in amazement. “Most people wouldn’t even notice.”

“Well, other people aren’t as curious as I am,” she said.

So true. She’s remarkably observant, and those observations permanently reside in that brain of hers. It’s astonishing.

She continued giving me back-street directions. If only she could drive, she would know her way around two counties. Maybe someday.

Recently she had a science test. Her teacher had sent out an email to all the parents, letting us know that he had provided a 3X5 card to each student on which they could take notes for the upcoming test. I asked Maddie if she needed help preparing her notes.

“I’m not doing that,” she replied. “I don’t need to.”

“Well, Maddie, as you get further along in school, there will be more and more information and it’ll become increasingly complicated. I think you should do it.”

“I’ll remember. I’m not doing it.”

The conversation fizzled out, and in my usual way, I forgot about it. A few days later, I remembered, but it was too late for the test.

“How did your science test go?” I asked.

“Fine,” she answered. She hadn’t gotten the results yet.

A couple weeks later, I inquired about the results.

Calmly Maddie reported, “Well there were 40 points. I got 38.”

“Okay,” I laughed. “I guess you were right.”

So what could I say then? She has never studied for a test. Ever. She gets A’s on math and science tests. Always. She might not get an A in the class, but that’s because she isn’t consistent with her homework. She just doesn’t necessarily do it. I don’t know if she’s doing her homework from one night to the next. Maybe her grades will be good. Maybe they won’t.

But I know for sure she’s learning. I remember memorizing facts for tests and then two days later I couldn’t remember much, and today I can’t remember any of it. She doesn’t study and she remembers everything! She knows all kinds of plants and trees and related facts. She knows about the weather and space. She has an encyclopedic knowledge of the complicated anime show she watches.

She’s incredible.

As challenging as she can be at times, she is so much more than her diagnosis. She has some wonderful gifts. Her memory is one of them. And thank goodness for that!