Is it just me, or does advancing age directly relate to a decline in what we once viewed as critically important? I ask because yesterday the sister leaned over my shoulder while we were in the bank and quietly asked me if I was wearing a bra. I honestly couldn’t remember if I was. What’s worse, I didn’t care.
There are many of us, myself included, that experience normal age related memory loss. For many, the harbingers of the golden years are worrisome, and even feared. Let me set your mind at ease. Getting old isn’t all that bad, especially when you consider the alternative.
Life is backwards. By the time we reach the point of total independence, we’re too damned old to enjoy much of anything. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t gingerly pole vault into the “golden age” of retirement, I gasped, waddled, and crawled over the barricade. Then I took a nap.
When I woke up, I realized I had left a few things behind, one being my perfect memory. Oh, I made excuses for myself for a while, but that got so time consuming I decided to make the most of my situation. I started wearing my ever so slight memory loss as a badge of honor. I would remind people of it, in case they forgot. I enjoyed the sense of additional freedom it gave me.
I laid the groundwork carefully. I would walk around bumping into things. When the kids asked what was wrong, I’d look confused and then tell them I forgot to put my other contact in. Once I said goodbye to the nephew and got in the front passenger side of the car. He asked me what I was doing. I said, “You’re not coming?”
I never liked to answer the phone. It always rang when I was busy, and the call was often for someone else. I used to suggest they call back, but that meant another interruption, so I began pretending to take their name and number and resorted to memory loss whenever questions arose about very important calls. Consequently, I was instructed to let the answering machine pick up. Who am I to argue?
My family leaves little reminders for me now, cute little sticky notes with x’s and o’s at the end. They started leaving them on the kitchen counter, but I would ignore them, saying I forgot to look on the counter. Now they stick them on my toilet lid and on my laptop. They think they’re so smart. So I run them under the faucet, tear them into little pieces, and blame the dog.
I guess what I’m suggesting, my comrades in cantankery, is that when you retire, people think you’ve got nothing else to do but help them out. Or even worse, they think they’re doing you a favor by making you feel “needed”. Well, I say horse-pucky. I’ve got plenty to do, thank you. Why, right now, I’m considering doing my nails. A while ago, I would have had to put my manicure off, and do a bit of vacuuming, but not any longer. You see, some days I just can’t seem to remember where we keep it, heh, heh.
I haven’t reached the stage of wearing my underwear on the outside …yet, but if I do, obviously that will be someone else’s problem. So, in the meantime, stop worrying about experiencing the normal age related “stigma” of memory loss. Welcome it. Embrace it. Use it to your advantage. God knows you deserve a little coddling. Remember, trying to outsmart those hell bent on finding things for you to do is great exercise for the mind. So, I encourage each and every one of you who have begun to experience the “Duh”s to relax, cut yourself some slack, and enjoy the downhill slide.
Oh, and one last tip. If a member of the family catches you flawlessly reciting Marc Anthony’s speech that you learned in high school, look baffled and say, “Who are you?” Better yet, fake a back spasm. You can milk those for months.
Source: Personal expe…uh, where was I?