Fleeting Memories.

 

THERE ARE few things more frustrating than pausing in the middle of somehing you've done tens of thousands of times with that stupid expression of "What the on your face.  This the point when you realize that dementia might be lurking that evil predator of our lmemories.  What I do is a quik restart and use one of the tech tools I have to "remember."  Frustrating it is.  Now I can imagine our elders frustrations.  I sympathize.  time to look in the mirror to see if I remember that fellow on the other side.  He and I need to talk.  I'm sure many of you can understand.

Peace and Balance,

John

Chapter 28: The Happy Hunting Ground

 As years pass so do memories.  Faces of what was and what will be float by in the minds of men on a regular basis.  These are what connects the ones doing the remembering with what is being remembered.  If the memory is paid close attention to, then the lessons of the past will embed themselves on the psyche of the ones doing the remembering.  Then Dreams will come and unite the past with the present then blended will become the future.  Then words like deja-vu and precognition make perfect sense in the larger scheme of things.

The Boy had been away from home for a good many years.  After many years had past He returned for a visit to find The Grandma suffering from the last stages of Dementia.  She even confused Him with The Old Man on more than one occasion.  It was true, The Boy was looking more and more like The Old Man the older he grew.   She would come to her senses and giggle like she knew the mistake.  All was normal again. 

The Old Man was getting older.  He would do incredible things for a man of his age.  He would put hands flat on the ground in front of him then place a boot atop the fence and reach down to the ground of the other boot.  This showed he still had mastery over his body.  However, he relied on The Dad and The Boy for more manual things.  He was after all over 100 years old. 

The Boy visited, Practiced with and took much advise from The Dad while they were both under the close scrutiny of The Old Man, who was always smiling and laughing.  His best teaching technique.  It was All Good.  

The Boy returned home to New Hampshire.  He was no longer an employee of the Governmental Military complex, but a self employed man that occasionally worked for a local school system.  The rumor was that He was Good with teens, but he would never let the secret out.  All was Good.

A few years after His visit a message reached The Boy that The Grandma and The Old Man had passed into the West, beyond the setting sun to the Happy Hunting Ground.  They had both been living in the shared room at a local retirement home.  She was dealing with the last stages of Dementia and The Old Man just because he was with her.  Approaching the age of ultimate wisdom The Old Man enjoyed the company of the home.  The Old Man passed in his sleep in the Fall,  He was found on his side facing the Western window, he had let go the spirit.  The Grandma had a lucid moment and asked the nursing staff, "Is That Hoot?"  They had to break the sad News that The Old Man had passed in the night.  Three days later The Grandma was found by nursing staff in her bed.  She had passed in the night in the same position that The Old Man was found in.  She was 93 years old.  The Old Man was 111 years old, and was a Real Life Cowboy.  

Peace and Balance,

John

Senior Moments

 

The older I get I've notice the more frequently that I sit or stand with a special blank expression upon my face wondering just what the hell I was about to do, had done, was thinking, was trying to think, remember, accomplish, and or move independently without the boot to the butt my wife is always happy to assist with.  These moments and lapses of time have been entitled and forever etched into our collective conscious as, "Senior Moments."

Being of a certain age, one that I have titled in a past post as, "The respectable age," has it's drawbacks.  The foremost is that special moment in the above paragraph.  The Senior Moment is a misfire in communication between your supposed brain and the rest of your body.  Usually in males it is first noticed as the, "Get out of the chair syndrome."  That is when you rise from your seat, not without some extra vocal accompaniment, go to the kitchen to grab a snack, or whatever, and upon arriving at your favorite spot in the house, the refrigerator, and opening the door are instantly hit with the lack of remembering or understanding just how, why, and what we are doing at the refrigerator.  Usually, according to, Bill Cosby, the only way to regain this memory is to return to the chair in which you were sitting and place your butt in the same spot to re-absorb the memory.  Then we can possibly accomplish the original task.  Most of the time this process takes a couple tries. 

The Senior Moment can attack at any given time.  I have been caught in the fearful time loop of, "Driving to the Mall."  That is, you know the directions when you pull out of your drive way,  you feel good about the ability to drive yourself in the correct direction, and you might even have some special, "Cruising" music coming out of your speakers.  Half way to the intended spot, the Mall, it drops out of your brain.  You've forgotten where and why your going, and you can't recall how to get there.  In my small community that is a real problem.  There's only one road to the Mall, which is only a Walmart in the first place.  I must mention at this time that I almost wrote, "Kmart" instead.  That would have just been embarrassing.  

I teach adult classes one day a week.  Last night I was teaching my class when I was pounced upon by a Senior Moment.  In this instance I was able to readjust my thinking on the fly and fake what I was talking about.  The students didn't notice, I hope.  One of them is pre-senior and may be suffering the beginnings of the syndrome himself, the rest of us are long past all hope.  It was a short spell and I re-collected.

There are those that suggest I take  something called Ginko Balboa or something like that to stimulate my memories.  I just have a hard time getting Rocky out of my head thinking about the stuff.  Maybe it's Geiko Bilbo?  what ever.  Others suggest Omega 3 supplements and Fish Oil.  That I do take with my multi vitamin in the mornings.  I supposed I should feel lucky that I've become respectable without the need for a handful of pills every day.  I wouldn't be able to pronounce them anyways.  

Along with the Senior Moment comes the, "Stare out of the window misty eyed thing."  I just caught myself doing that as I write this.  The only reason I mention it.  

So, if you find yourself suffering the affects of the "Senior Moment," and the occasional "Misty Eyed" expression comes across your countenance, Fear not, for you have just joined a growing and well established club of elders.  In a respectable society the youth would be there to assist, however...

Peace and Balance,

John

 

The Puzzle of Age

 A gray haired old lady approached me at the home and asked me to help her with a puzzle.  I asked her what the puzzle was and she squinted mindfully at the box and said, "A chicken, I think."

She dumped all the pieces out on the table and began trying to fit them together.

I said to the gray haired old lady, "Please mam, you're not going to be able to put that puzzle together, and let's put the Corn Flakes back into the box."  

At the time I first heard this joke I thought it was extremely funny.  I laughed for days.  That is until I looked at myself in the mirror and realized my hair was indeed gray, verging on a pale shade of white.  And again I noticed the tool dangling from a string around my neck, my spectacles.  Then I realized I have troubles remembering important things, like phone numbers, birth dates, and occasionally my own name.  Oh my God, I've become the butt of the joke.

A gray haired old man approached a gray haired old lady and asks, "Remember that puzzle you asked me about the other day? I've got a bowl and spoon, hungry?"

Peace and Balance,

John