Say What?

There’s something important I want to say about memory. Wait a minute. Oh yeah, memory is no joke. Or, joking about its deterioration and loss is not funny and, it may well be that joking might actually pave the way for this downhill slide.

Okay, I’m getting older. I bet you are, too. They say our memories begin to decline around age thirty. They are talking about our ability to remember, not about the quality of those memories. But, somehow, everything was fine until recently. Who cared? I never was good with names. It was when I started to react to my image in the mirror, with shock and despair, and began to notice all the old guys around me, that I began to wonder if there had been something I had forgotten.

I’ve never been particularly organized and misplacing something, like my keys, or having to look for something, like my checkbook, just seemed like a normal thing. And, it still may be, but these occurrences, coupled with what I know about aging and memory, are beginning to make me wonder.

Our world is, without doubt, a busier, more crowded place than ever before. The world population doubles every 35 years. How can I possibly remember all those names? The internet has made all information available all the time. This is a wonderful thing in many ways, but how am I supposed to know all of it?

As a young man, with a good education, I felt that I knew, or if I applied myself, could learn almost everything important about everything. Now, I see how wrong I was. How naïve. It may have been possible, at one time, maybe, in the 1790s, but no more. That’s fine, but I’m getting a complex about it. Perhaps, it’s wrong to see it like this, but I feel it’s a failing of some sort. It makes me question what I do know. And, what is it I do know? I can’t remember, but I’m confident that when a situation and context comes up and calls for this knowledge, I will be able to respond.

I like to think I’m living in the moment. That, with my years of experience, I have acquired wisdom and self-reliance and confidence, but, maybe, it’s really increasing ignorance. A bliss disguised as a moment of enlightenment. A void, instead of restraint.

After all, every one of us gets older. We decline. We enter our dotage. We are not as nimble as we once were. We find ourselves outside of the important activities of the world and in a more observational role. We are commenting on things from that mountaintop of our accumulated knowledge, experience, and wisdom. We now focus more on inner, than outer events and nuances. Nuances like, where are those keys? And, did I leave my checkbook somewhere? Who is that in the mirror? And, what was I watching before this commercial?

I like to think that it is all a matter of attention. You remember things that are important to you. You pick and choose where you place that attention, based on your tried and trusted judgment. Many of the things that I was consumed with before, no longer seem important. No longer merit my interest. Like, love handles or scrutinizing every word that leaves my mouth.

Things that concerned me before, now fall away and I have a more philosophical view of things. If I can’t recall the name of my wife’s cousin, it’s not a sign of dementia; it’s just that I am interested in something else. When I can’t remember my wife’s name, then I’ll get concerned.

After all, I don’t want to spend my life worrying about what I do and do not remember. I want to spend it in this moment. With what’s her name.