It’s an epidemic.
Many of my friends are in the same boat with me when it comes to frequently foggy memories. I have to say, it gives me immense pleasure knowing I’m not floating out there alone. That sounds callous, doesn’t it? But mostly, it fills me with hope that I’m not, in fact, losing it. It being my mind. Granted, I never had a particularly sharp one. But these days I sometimes find my boat lost in a sea of fog.
Getting older hasn’t bothered me that much. I mean, if it weren’t for my stupid back, I mostly feel like a 30-year-old. I don’t have aching body parts a 64-year-old might expect. Maybe because I’ve always been active. Now don’t get me wrong; just because I don’t feel my age doesn’t mean I don’t look it. I certainly do. Sadly, I recently gazed into my 10x magnifying mirror and just for a second wished I was blind.
For me the saddest part of aging, other than losing my mind, is how I wear it. Some age beautifully; I’m not one of them. Used to be when I’d search for wrinkles, the odds of actually spotting one is akin to finding Waldo. But suddenly my wrinkles have spread like a bad rash. In fact, I now understand why funny lady, Nora Ephron, wrote her book, “I Feel Bad about My Neck.” Girl, I’m with ya there.
I rarely wore neck scarves but now I own…wait for it…25. (No joke.) Thankfully, winter is nearly upon us; turtlenecks, here I come! Until recently, I could hide my proliferating gray hairs with a color rinse once a month. Now I’m lucky if it lasts 2 weeks before they sneak back into view, especially at the crown. Need I remind you I’m short, so the skunk stripe atop my head is quite noticeable when I forget to buy the rinse. (There I go forgetting again.)
Full disclosure: Alzheimer’s is on both sides of my family, my dad and grandma having displayed symptoms at age 65. Not exactly a humorous blog topic, is it? But sadly, that’s life. Like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. (Unless, like me, you don’t buy a mixed box.) Let’s see, what was my point again? Oh yeah…as I approach 65, I sometimes wonder if I’ll be next. This is why when I’m forgetful I think, am I losing it?
My friends assure me they, too, walk into rooms without remembering why. I’m also constantly misplacing my keys but have yet to find them in the freezer, so that’s a huge relief. Sometimes I don’t recall contacting a client (I currently have 37). My side-kick, Loretta, says it’s because I have 37. And don’t even ask what I had for breakfast yesterday. I marvel at (yet hate a little bit) those who can recite what they were doing 3 Tuesdays ago.
Recently I worried when one of my volunteers mentioned I’d texted her about meeting with a new volunteer. I truly didn’t recall that. I was devastated because it totally skipped my mind. I panicked a little until a long minute later she texted back, “I’m so sorry Janet, it was Lisa who sent me the text, not you.” Let’s just say I was more than a tad relieved. Almost joyous, in fact.
Still, whenever something skips my mind, I count the days until I turn 65, hoping I remain symptom-free. I currently have 8 months and 21 days before my boat drifts off, permanently lost in fog or, my personal preference — it’s smooth sailing into that good night.
COME ON SMOOTH SAILING!