Forgetting

   I am almost sixty and my mind is changing. It has been for quite awhile now and the process has been a fairly slow and gradual sort of thing. More than anything, I am forgetting.
   Forgetting is nothing new to me but now it is happening in the blink of an eye. It is happening in the space of time it takes for something to travel from my left hand to my right or for me to walk from one end of the room to the other.

It's not THIS bad........yet.

   It takes almost nothing to distract me these days. A fleeting thought will do it. If I could control the fleeting thoughts, I would. I want nothing more than to replace empty toilet paper rolls but the fleeting thoughts prevent this. I want to close the kitchen cupboard doors when I'm done with them but, again, my own thoughts get in the way.
   It seems I have no way of prioritizing what goes on in my head, no way of placing one thought process above the others even long enough to simply to get one thing done.
   I realize that this is not an uncommon occurrence in the aging process. This does not particularly console me. Even though some of the time it is mildly amusing, when you begin to extrapolate it becomes downright terrifying! For that reason I try not to extrapolate too much. I try not to think about just how much worse this could eventually get. I sometimes envision walking into a room, not knowing why I walked into the room, not even recognizing the room and being frozen there, so unsure of my thought processes that I have no idea what to do next.
   At the best of times, my mind has not been organized. I have never been one to make lists, create reminders, use datebooks faithfully or make copious plans for the future. Eventually you learn to cope, though, and if your friends, family and co-workers are aware of your special abilities in this area you can get by not too badly.
   It seems, however, that the best of times may be slipping by. My forgetting from one second to the next has impacted me finally, and not just the people around me. I have had the opportunity to watch my Dad's mind slowly fail in his later years and I can see myself headed there. I think I could live with the speed with which his Alzheimer's crept up on him, if it happened to me the same way. But what if it happens to me so much faster?
   I am at the point now where I have adopted a what you see is what you get kind of attitude. People will occasionally ask me to do something for them at some point in the future. I take care to remind them of how tenuous an arrangement this is. Generally we come up with some kind of plan for reminding me closer to the time. People have come to understand this about me, for the most part.
   For my part, I have made some attempts to re-structure how I think. As an example, if I am driving to the other end of the city and know that one I need to make one or two stops along the way I stop thinking of it as a trip across the city and I start thinking about it as a trip to the first place I need to stop at, on my way. And then I hope that I can maintain this mindset long enough to actually make that stop. If I set my car keys or travel mug down somewhere unusual, I will try to make a special note of the uniqueness of that spot. If I take my car keys out of the ignition but then need to sit in the car for awhile arranging things, I put the keys somewhere on my person so that I don't end up  locking them in the car. I spend a lot of time stopped in mid-action, contemplating the possible results of that action.
   Memory aids are great--if you remember to use them. I have a date book that I use principally for work. It is, however, only helpful if I remember to take it with me, remember to input times and dates, remember to refer to it, remember where I left it and remember that I have one. There are electronic reminding devices--cellphones, i-pods and watches that will all message you a reminder of important events. If you can remember how to program them.
   Most of the really important things, I remember. If they are part of a routine, this makes it easier. Routines sometimes get interrupted, though, and my ability to remember then becomes an issue. If you are a hockey player, there is nothing much more important than your helmet, stick and gloves. At various times, I have forgotten all of these. If you are headed off to work, there is nothing much more important than your wallet, watch and phone. Once again, at various times, I have left all of these at home.
   When I look back at all these instances of forgetfulness, what seems obvious is that I forgot mainly because my routine had been disturbed. Perhaps I forgot my hockey gloves because I set them off in a different area to dry. Maybe I forgot my watch because I had to set it down on a counter to wash some dishes. Somehow or other I got on to the next step of my routine, things seemed normal, and I let the house without something important.
   What is the very worst of all this is that a fading memory takes along with it some self-worth. People, particularly your loved ones, see you differently suddenly. You seem less trustworthy to them. Perhaps an important responsibility is shuffled on to someone else's shoulders. You are checked up on, sometimes needlessly, sometimes necessarily. It is sometimes hard not be viewed as foolish, rather than forgetful. It does not mean that you are any less loved, it just feels uncomfortably different than the way it always has.
   This, then, is my ongoing struggle. I try to do things which occupy, and therefore strengthen, my mind as much as possible. I count blogging as one of those things. I love word games and puzzles. I am quite willing to explore whatever holistic approaches there may be to retaining my memory. My contemporaries are aging as well and I can see subtle little signs in other people of some of the same things I am experiencing. This leaves me feeling a little less alone in all of this.

   We are rather at the mercy of our brains. I know that forgetting can sometimes come across as uncaring, spiteful or malicious but I am trying to learn not to accept the responsibility for this. It is what it is, I truly intended to change the used-up toilet paper roll (in fact, I was almost looking forward to it) but this just didn't happen. I know that many times I have changed the roll and I have started the dishwasher and I have attended the meeting and I have brought my mug safely home and, for the moment, I am happy with this. The quintessential me is still in here, alive and content with who I am and this is something which will not change for a very long time!