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Carol A LaCroix

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Member Since: Sep, 2010

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The Age of Forgetfulness
by Carol A LaCroix   
Rated "G" by the Author.
Last edited: Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Posted: Wednesday, September 21, 2011

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This article focuses on forgetfulness during the aging process and a particularly bad day.

Forgetfulness has been a part of my life as far back as I can remember.  Misplacing keys, losing my glasses, or not remembering why I entered a room is all too familiar for me.  I don't know when the downward trend began, but lately this phenomenon has grown worse.  Addresses are impossible.  I might recall how to get some place, but not have the foggiest idea of the street numbers.  And, telephone numbers:  I don't even try to remember them anymore.  I write them down and have them where I can find them.  Even then. there are times I don't remember where I put them.  If I meet someone who seems to know me, I avoid calling names until my mind kicks into gear.  Until then, I politely nod yes or no and act as if I recognized them at first glance.

On a typical day not long ago, I went to town on some errands.  I try to make it a habit to write out a list before I leave home so I won't forget anything.  That day was no exception, but I'd lost my list.  I couldn't remember where I'd left it and the various items on the list had become fragmented bits and pieces floating around in my mind.  I found I would have to wing it.

I'd remembered the groceries, been to the bank, and picked up my medicine.  Then, I found myself on Mall Drive.  I looked at the familiar scenery.  Regency Mall was on the right and strip shopping on the left, but nothing clicked as to why I had chosen this route.  It wasn't until I spotted McLendons off to the left that I remembered my glasses needed adjustment.

After parking, I stepped out of my van and into the shop.  It was as if I were seeing it for the first time and it gave me an errie feeling, almost as if I'd entered a time warp.  The technician called me by name, but I had no idea who he was or that I'd dealt with him some time previously.

 I shivered as I left the shop.  I wasn't sure why, but I was glad to be out of there.  I set out in my van and headed north.  I crossed familiar side streets, stopped at the usual lights, but I had no idea why I had come this way.  Was I simply on my way home?  Not likely.  It would be the long way around.

It wasn't until I was almost to the barber stop that I realized I needed a hair cut.  After I'd settled down into the chair, the barber asked,"Is something wrong?  You seem nervous, not quite yourself today."

How could I tell him what was going on?  I didn't know myself.  I answered, "i'm fine.  Just a little tired.  That's all."

The rest of my hair cut was in silence.

I was glad to see home.  To be honest, I was glad I could remember how to get home.  I was depressed and feeling very sorry for myself so once inside the door, I wept until I could weep no more.  If this was what old age was like, I wanted no part of it; that is, until the realization of not growing old crept up on me.  I felt as if I was falling to pieces.  I was already wearing glasses and dentures had been a part of my life for a number of years.  Of late, I had gained a hearing aid and gone through cataract surgery with lens implants.  I had also started using a scooter in order to get around the large shopping plazas easily.  Was my memory going to be the next to go?  If so, would there be an implant for me?  I don't think so.

Exhausted from cryiong, I took a nap.  There was a time I considered a nap a luxury.  Now, it's a necessity.  My brain quits functioning and I am asleep.  It was about an hour later when I awoke with a new zeal.  I didn't remembetr a thing.


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Reviewed by Debbie Lacy
This was a very interesting article Carol which brings to mind some of the things you've mentioned that I have been experiencing. Like while talking to someone about something and the thought slips my mind as to what I wanted to say. Ugh! I hate that! Then later I remember what it was I wanted to stay or a vital point I wanted to make! I'm also posting more "post its" all over the house to help me remember things! I'm slowly coming to grips that its a sign of aging so oh well! It's coming whether I like it or not! Thanks for sharing such an interesting write. :)


Debbie
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