, , , , , , ,

I was walking down in the old neighbourhood today and I overheard someone say something and I thought at the time, “That would be a good topic for a blog.” But, and this is a big but, I didn’t make a note of it and by the time I finished feeding two houses of cats and going to aquafit for an hour and chatting with old neighbours on the street, the great idea slipped from all corners of my memory and disappeared someplace never to be found again. I wonder what it was?

This has been happening all too frequently lately. I try not to get too spooked by it, but it is very disturbing all the same. The other day I was talking to M about my sore right hip and telling her — or trying to tell her — the stretches my trainer had given me to ease the pain and strengthen that right hip. Now, you have to know that over the almost four years I’ve had C as a trainer, these two particular exercises have figured in many of my programs. But could I remember them to tell Merrill? You guessed right, a firm NO. I had to explain them to her by almost doing them — like a pantomime — before their names came to me. Oh no, I just forgot them again! I have done these exercises hundreds of times. What are they called??? Oh, Pelvic Tilts and Bridges. Ok,  I have to admit that I remembered pelvic tilts but, to save my sanity, I cheated and looked up bridges on my exercise sheet.

This is not humorous at all although I try to get over it with a little chuckle. But in the privacy of my thoughts, it’s pretty scary. I try to use the mindfulness training that I had but it was a long time ago and if I’m not remembering something from today it’s sometimes difficult to pull those healthy habits out of my brain and memory. When I was over-stressed with the move and all the sadness that that brought me, I could excuse forgetting a little something here and now. But, it’s been four months and things have eased out — even though I’m still not so sure about living in a building. Nope, can’t use that excuse or justification for my weakening memory. Maybe I should concentrate on only memory exercises on Lumosity — trouble is I’m not very good at them so don’t particularly enjoy doing them. But isn’t that pretty telling in itself?

I wasn’t around much when my Dad was aging and missing some of his memory — or being “memory challenged” which is the political correct way if saying it these days. So all I have to go on are the stories that my siblings and Mom told about him during those times. One, in particular has stuck with me. I remember my mom telling me this, and I’ve never forgotten it both for its humour and the sweetness of their relationship. She said that she sent my dad down to the basement one day to get a can of peaches. He was down there for a long time and when he finally came up, he had a can of peas. She said to him, “Freddie does that look like peaches.” He answered — and I’m sure he was smiling — “Well, it looks like peaches to me.”

I haven’t gotten my peaches and peas mixed up — yet — but if and when I do, I hope I remember that story and laugh about this whole silliness of aging.