I am going to be 58 this weekend and am really recognizing the limitations to my mental capacities, particularly around remembering simple things. For instance, for this essay, I had to use Wikipedia to look up the Pink Floyd song title that the title of the essay is a wordplay on. This, despite 5 minutes earlier thinking of it without the aid of Google and sticking a mental pin in it, because it was such a "memorable" idea.
But that is my life these days. Occasional mental brownouts that cause me to be late to meetings, wake me up in the middle of the night with a feeling of yet another thing that slipped through the cracks. and, of course, this is troubling to me because my Mother and Grandmother both had dementia and I saw both of them eventually lose their ever-loving minds.
Now I have been reassured that momentarily lapses in memory are not, in themselves, a big deal. They happen to everybody, no matter the age. I can remember the convenience of saying "I forgot" as a kid when I really didn't want to do something or, actually, did forget to do the thing that I was not compelled to do. Forgetfulness of the that kind we do all the time. But the kind where you put down your keys and 2 minutes later you can't find them anywhere, well that is bothersome.
"Don't borrow trouble, Garry," friends tell me--well, actually, I tell me. I'm not that confessional with my friends about my self-diagnosed early onset senility--or whatever it is. But, to be clear, I truly am not afraid that I will lose my mind. No really, because in the moments where I have actually really forgotten that I have forgotten something--it is like it never happened. That is to say, if I were to some day lose my mind, I would never know what hit me. It is the slow, steady march up to that moment that is worrisome.
I worry because I don't want to make my wife's life terrible for her. She signed up for "Stick with me and we'll go places." She did not sign up for "Stick with me because I don't know where I am going and who are you strange woman next to me?" Loving another person can border on the cruel, you know?
On the other hand, more than occasionally I have these really great moments of clarity when things I never knew that I knew come together and pop out of my mouth and they sound really wise. In my work, as a guidance counselor, these "deep seated gems" are inspiring to me and my young charges. Momentary synaptic connections that lead to reason are designed to do this for us 24/7 and for the most part we just accept the output as "the answer". For me though, they are not just answers but they are compilations of loads of thoughts that never seemed to add up to anything. And they are wonderful to experience.
Perhaps it is the yin to the yang of subtle memory loss that these "Crackerjack prizes" of inspired thought are here to compensate? I really don't know, yet. All I know is I am learning to experience my myself in a different way than I am accustomed. Part of it is thrilling. Part of it, what is the word?
But that is my life these days. Occasional mental brownouts that cause me to be late to meetings, wake me up in the middle of the night with a feeling of yet another thing that slipped through the cracks. and, of course, this is troubling to me because my Mother and Grandmother both had dementia and I saw both of them eventually lose their ever-loving minds.
Now I have been reassured that momentarily lapses in memory are not, in themselves, a big deal. They happen to everybody, no matter the age. I can remember the convenience of saying "I forgot" as a kid when I really didn't want to do something or, actually, did forget to do the thing that I was not compelled to do. Forgetfulness of the that kind we do all the time. But the kind where you put down your keys and 2 minutes later you can't find them anywhere, well that is bothersome.
"Don't borrow trouble, Garry," friends tell me--well, actually, I tell me. I'm not that confessional with my friends about my self-diagnosed early onset senility--or whatever it is. But, to be clear, I truly am not afraid that I will lose my mind. No really, because in the moments where I have actually really forgotten that I have forgotten something--it is like it never happened. That is to say, if I were to some day lose my mind, I would never know what hit me. It is the slow, steady march up to that moment that is worrisome.
On the other hand, more than occasionally I have these really great moments of clarity when things I never knew that I knew come together and pop out of my mouth and they sound really wise. In my work, as a guidance counselor, these "deep seated gems" are inspiring to me and my young charges. Momentary synaptic connections that lead to reason are designed to do this for us 24/7 and for the most part we just accept the output as "the answer". For me though, they are not just answers but they are compilations of loads of thoughts that never seemed to add up to anything. And they are wonderful to experience.
Perhaps it is the yin to the yang of subtle memory loss that these "Crackerjack prizes" of inspired thought are here to compensate? I really don't know, yet. All I know is I am learning to experience my myself in a different way than I am accustomed. Part of it is thrilling. Part of it, what is the word?
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