Since typing with my left hand is really no fun, not to mention difficult, I’m running with repeats. Most of you have never seen them because they are columns from my 11 years (so far) as a newspaper columnist. So enjoy the blasts from the past and I’ll be back with the really exciting story of how my superhero powers suddenly failed and I broke my arm.
Weird things have been happening to me. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m getting older—or if it’s because I’m the mom of an extremely active 8 year old—but strange things have been happening nonetheless.
Take the other day, for example. While cutting my hair, my sister said, “Wow. You really got gray in the last month.” Now I figured that meant I had a strand or two of gray weaving its way through my hair. I wish. You see, according to my sister, I have “huge” chunks of gray sprouting all over my head.
Now I ask you, how the heck do you go from no gray to tons of gray in one month? Is it age? Is it my son? Or something else entirely?
And then I noticed something really shocking—I’m losing my memory. I used to be Super Memory Woman. I didn’t need a grocery list. I always knew where my car keys were. I remembered the name of everyone I met. And I never woke up in the middle of the night screaming, “It’s April 16th! Did I mail the taxes?”
But now? Now, there are days when I walk down the hallway to get something out of the bedroom and when I get there I wonder why the heck I’m in the bedroom. If I forget my list when I go to the grocery store, I have to go back home and get it because there is no way I can remember what’s on it.
And once, I forgot to shop. That was horrifying. A few weeks ago, when Bed Bath & Beyond opened, I forgot to go. How could this happen? How could I, a professional shopper, forget to attend a grand opening?
Just last week, I lost my car keys. I looked high and low for them. They weren’t anywhere in the house. Do you know where I found them? In my truck, dangling from the ignition. Look, when I open the door, a little ding-dong noise goes off, telling me that I forgot to take my keys out. So how could I leave them there? Did I forget what the ding-dong noise meant? Or is my hearing going too?
And it doesn’t get any better. Half the time, I can’t remember Junior’s name. How can I forget my child’s name? I’ve been thinking of boys and girls names since I was in the seventh grade, for Pete’s sake. And Junior’s name was the #1 spot on the boy list. Not to mention the fact that he’s the only kid I have.
But I still forget his name. I go outside to call what’s-his-name in for dinner and I go blank. I yell the dog’s name, my husband’s name, the name of my fourth grade teacher. But I cannot remember what my son’s name is. I finally stand in the street yelling, “Hey, kid that belongs to me. Come in for dinner. Or breakfast. Or whatever meal this is.“
So this memory thing is causing a real problem. I find myself repeating things over and over. I’ll be right in the middle of saying something and I’ll realize that I’ve already said it. Maybe it’s because Junior isn’t listening—or maybe it’s because I’ve forgotten that I’ve said it all before.
So I guess…wait. What was this column about? Memory? Aging? Being a busy mom? Gray hair?
You see? I can’t remember. My mind is completely blank. But I do remember two things—they make hair dye to cover the gray chunks. And I did mail the taxes. I think.Add me to your rss reader | Become a Fan on Facebook!