Saw this quote today: "The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end, that's all there is." The last part of that grabs hold of my head and squeezes till the insides blow out. It scares me so much...for I can feel the beginnings of that Loss,
I be-bop my way through the days of my retired life sporadically losing things and looking for them. I'll leave my cell phone somewhere and wander endlessly through the house looking for it (volume turned mindlessly down, no need to try to call it). Screwdrivers and other tools are especially great at this hide 'n seek. I'll buy a set of countersinks, get them home and unpack them into a finely labeled container, then forget I've done this---the search in my mind sees them still in the package, so for three days I look right through them without seeing them. This "losing" is a constant in my life and, in its own odd way, brings some stability and interest to a routine-heavy lifestyle. No! that's really just not true. Frustration, physical effort, and loss of very precious time are the true results. Thus, stress---and grouchiness.
I be-bop my way through the days of my retired life sporadically losing things and looking for them. I'll leave my cell phone somewhere and wander endlessly through the house looking for it (volume turned mindlessly down, no need to try to call it). Screwdrivers and other tools are especially great at this hide 'n seek. I'll buy a set of countersinks, get them home and unpack them into a finely labeled container, then forget I've done this---the search in my mind sees them still in the package, so for three days I look right through them without seeing them. This "losing" is a constant in my life and, in its own odd way, brings some stability and interest to a routine-heavy lifestyle. No! that's really just not true. Frustration, physical effort, and loss of very precious time are the true results. Thus, stress---and grouchiness.
The time and footsteps used would carry me successfully through any number of tasks. But, no---they're just gone. I lose other things as well...the details of even those sweet, I'll-never-forget-that moments in my life. What despair, they are just simply gone...lost...recalled vaguely, in part only, if someone else speaks of them. And I wonder how many of these I have forfeited---completely. I can't look for them since I don't know they've vanished.
Even driving down the road, at times, I struggle to figure out the shortest or best route to a destination that I've gone to numerous times. Oh, me... this forgetfulness...this lack of remembering...becomes the main stress of my days now, as other worries seem to pale in its wake. There's no urgent, driving pain in this. Just a numbing gray-ness, to my very core. What happens next? What do I lose next?
I watch the interactions of friends and family members and wonder...how many similar moments of my earlier being do I simply not recall. My parents and siblings, my kids, Jan?...how many meaningful incidents are blotted from my mind, and as such from my very life? No pangs of known regret of any kind from this---just nothing. An eerie emptiness creeps through my current consciousness, a kind of blank fear...a going-somewhere, but with no real destination, not seeking something because one doesn't know it exists (a truism for all of life?).
Then, I think---get real, it's not that bad, you're exaggerating the situation. Hmm... Well, maybe. All older people are forgetful, just relax and go with the proverbial flow. If we can push our fears far enough backstage, they temporarily disappear into that darkness. Which would be fine, I suppose, but I find myself stumbling awkwardly about over the props I encounter wherever the light is dim.
Don't get me wrong! Within the sphere of my Usual, I still function very successfully. My critical thinking is fine. My awareness of moral integrity is clear. My recognition of interactions and their implications is strong. It's just those blasted lost memories! Hmm...
Even driving down the road, at times, I struggle to figure out the shortest or best route to a destination that I've gone to numerous times. Oh, me... this forgetfulness...this lack of remembering...becomes the main stress of my days now, as other worries seem to pale in its wake. There's no urgent, driving pain in this. Just a numbing gray-ness, to my very core. What happens next? What do I lose next?
I watch the interactions of friends and family members and wonder...how many similar moments of my earlier being do I simply not recall. My parents and siblings, my kids, Jan?...how many meaningful incidents are blotted from my mind, and as such from my very life? No pangs of known regret of any kind from this---just nothing. An eerie emptiness creeps through my current consciousness, a kind of blank fear...a going-somewhere, but with no real destination, not seeking something because one doesn't know it exists (a truism for all of life?).
Then, I think---get real, it's not that bad, you're exaggerating the situation. Hmm... Well, maybe. All older people are forgetful, just relax and go with the proverbial flow. If we can push our fears far enough backstage, they temporarily disappear into that darkness. Which would be fine, I suppose, but I find myself stumbling awkwardly about over the props I encounter wherever the light is dim.
Don't get me wrong! Within the sphere of my Usual, I still function very successfully. My critical thinking is fine. My awareness of moral integrity is clear. My recognition of interactions and their implications is strong. It's just those blasted lost memories! Hmm...
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