Watching the Signs

Those of us in striking range of the Big Sleep share many commonalities in our physical and spiritual development. (Or is that deterioration? I forget.)  Many of these kind of suck.  In fact, most of them kind of suck.  In fact/in fact, right now I can’t think of any that don’t suck!!!

But today’s helping of deep insights, brought to you compliments of the exorbitant amount of free time in retirement devotable to disturbing thoughts, will address two of the really suckable sub-topics contained in our shared Book of Life (Chapter Nine – When Your Mind and Body Go to Shit).  These are Memory Loss and Guilt.

In my literary wanderings I’ve frequently come across web sites that provide information of a physiological nature intended to help us understand such things as Why Octogenarians Should Continue to Wear Condoms (YUCK!), the Top Ten Foods That Contribute to Yeast Infections  (seems like bread would be one but for some reason that didn’t make the list), Why Boners Melt as You Age (Climate Change), and of particular interest to Seniors, Signs of Memory Loss Leading to Dementia.

At this stage life I’ve begun to experience signs of memory loss.  Why that is I forget, but the other day something happened that stands out as a shining example of a seemingly minor lapse of memory which could portend serious consequences for me in the future.

Over the weekend I accompanied my son, his wife and my two granddaughters, ages 5 and 7,  on a visit to a local Fall Fest thing (it wasn’t called that but I don’t remember the exact name) which included a remarkable range of animals from around the world.  We saw them, petted them, fed them, smelled them – pretty much all of the things you do with animals, except for the sheep.

I read somewhere that there are other things that can be done with sheep, mostly in England I think.   What things I don’t remember but for some reason that lapse of memory isn’t particularly concerning.  I did notice the keen eye the sheep on display seemed to be keeping on some of the fathers staring at them. Whatever.

To continue, the following day I was texting with my sister and she was asking what I thought of the Fall Fest adventure.

I responded that first of all I thought it was pretty expensive.

It cost my granddaughters twenty bucks apiece to get in and another twenty or so to feed a nickel’s worth of little carrot sticks to giant Brahman bulls and other creatures – money which the poor kids will have to work overtime at their Kindergarten and 2nd Grade Navajo Rug Making Classes to recoup.  But if that helps to fix the myopia problem Brahman bulls apparently have, I guess I’m good with that.

But back on topic here.

As I continued texting I described the variety of animals on display, including the aforementioned Brahman bulls, pygmy goats, ostriches and….suddenly my mind froze.  Try as I might I simply couldn’t remember the name of the critters which I found particularly fun to watch.  After several minutes of confusion and frustration I finally gave up and texted “….and those cute Australian bouncing animals.”

As for her texted response, which included a lot of laughing emojis,  I know it wasn’t Wannabies and I don’t think it was Kimona Dragons or Coca Cola Bears either.

But no matter.  That experience was a wake up.  If I couldn’t remember the name of a cute Australian bouncing animal now (a Dingle maybe?), what on earth could I expect my memory to be like in one, two, ten or even five days?

Who knows.   Putting the best possible spin on this whole episode I’ve decided to take comfort in the fact that I can still clearly remember the day Australia was welcomed as our Fifty Fourth State.

In closing, it seems like there was something else I was going to write about but what that was escapes me. I feel bad about that.  Actually I feel a little guilty.





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