Or my car keys, or my book, or, or, or… Oh yes, we’ve entered a new era at Casa Sims. The one where you can’t remember what you did two minutes ago. Like where the hell did I put my car keys because they certainly are not in the special car key compartment in my purse where I always put my car keys. Except, apparently not this time. So, the search begins – feel around in the giant purse I use because it holds all of the important things I must carry with me at all times. Pull out the seemingly endless stream of tiny paper receipts, semi-used but still good in an emergency napkins, glasses (several pairs), wallet, phone, camera + + +. It’s all there, but not the keys. Search some more. Upstairs. Downstairs. All over the house…no keys. Try the purse one more time. Voila. They were there all the time. Hiding from me in the one tiny corner I missed. Hubby gets that certain smile on his face but keeps his mouth shut. Smart man. He knows. It’s the same thing with the glasses. Keys, glasses, glasses, keys. Lost then found. Only to be lost again. Repeat daily.
Then there are the new and interesting conversations. They go something like this…
Hubs, sitting in his recliner chair watching TV: “What’s the name of that guy I like?”
Me: “What guy?” Hubs: “You know, the one on that TV show” Me: “What TV show?” Hubs: “The one with the guy I like. I don’t remember the name …” Me: “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about!” Hubs: “Ok. Nevermind.” Rinse and repeat.
It gets even better when we are both on the same wrong track. Off we go to the grocery store. Hubby and I. Park the car. Walk into the store having an animated conversation. That’s when we suddenly stop, look at each other and, in unison: “What was it we came in here for?” I kid you not.
Is it just us or does this happen to everyone at some point? Does grey in your hair automatically lead to mass dropping of functional brain cells? Maybe…a little. But I’m convinced that all this forgetfulness is Mother Nature’s not so subtle reminder to slow down. Pay attention. And for God’s sake, find our sense of humor. Because it is funny. We can’t control getting older. Like it or not, it’s out of our hands. But we can sit up, slow down, pay attention, live the details of every moment and savor the things we do remember. Laugh out loud. At ourselves. Laughter is medicine. And quit worrying about not finding the car keys. The time to worry is when you can no longer find the car.
Now, where did I put my glasses?