GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

In the course of the past week of hunting for all of my nice shirts, I found a small black poncho I bought years ago from J.Jill. I wore it possibly once before it vanished. Turned out, it was underneath something else on a shelf in the closet. Black, so it pretty much vanished into the shadows. It’s back! Yay!

I also found all the clothing I was missing. Apparently, when we came back from Connecticut, I didn’t finish unpacking my bag. It has been sitting about four feet from this bed. Neatly packed. I know my blouses are in it — I looked — and for all I know, my green earrings are there, too.

The bad part? How in the world did I forget to unpack? I have to step over that bag every time I go to the bathroom.

Everyone tells me it isn’t really senility, even though I personally feel like I’m slipping a few cogs. I worry me. I used to be able to remember all kinds of stuff. Details of software and telephone numbers. Addresses and the names and derivations of antiques. These days, I’m lucky if I remember the name of the doctor I’m seeing today.

The good news? Eventually, everything comes back. The thing I couldn’t remember yesterday will pop up tomorrow, bright and shiny. Like my newly recovered poncho. It has been waiting for me for at least two years. In the closet. Neatly folded. Tonight, I got to wear it as if I had just bought it all over again.

Forgetting comes with the option of remembering stuff. As if it was new. Again.

That’s good, right?

23 thoughts on “GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

    • The green earrings are still “at large.” I think they MAY be in the bag I was carrying before I switched bags, one of the many reasons I hate changing bags at all. I’m grateful to find the rest of my clothing! It was afraid I wouldn’t find it until it was too late in the year to wear it.

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  1. No no, not senility. Definitely not senility. Discretionary memory, keeping those things that matter in the forefront of the mind and shuffling the rest off to the side, to be dug out if necessary. How else can you cope with all the information you collect in a lifetime?

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    • “Discretionary memory” sounds very scientific. I am going to go with that. Covers just about everything, doesn’t it. From the loss of jewelry to standing in the kitchen holding my empty glass, yet having no idea why i’m there. I love it.

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  2. the working brain can only hold so much instant memory, and what you don’t need NOW gets shuffled further and further back. Which is why I label every damn storage box, bag, and tin can with exactly what’s in there.
    The time to be really concerned is when you open a box and think, ‘red sweater? is this mine? Honey, do I have a red sweater?” and he answers, “erm, yep, you wore it last Christmas day…”

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    • Going on THAT basis, I probably ran out of working brain cells more than a decade ago.

      I do find clothing that appears to be mine, yet I have no idea when, how, or WHY I bought it. I also buy a lot of Garry’s clothing … but I don’t remember when, not even whether we were living here or back in Boston. He was wearing a leather jacket the other day and I asked him “Did i buy that?”

      “I think so.”

      “Any idea when?”

      “I think I was still working. So … Boston?” I looked at the buttons in hopes they would remind me where I got it, but nope. NO idea. He couldn’t remember either. We are together lost in the same space. Maybe that’s how come we get along?

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    • I remember the word and then it disappears into one of those aforementioned cracks. Whoosh, gone. I actually now depend on Google to find that lost word because when i’m writing, I can’t always find another way to say it. At least so far, it all comes back, especially after I stop trying to find it.

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