I’ve been sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself lately owing to the excruciatingly slow progress in the approval of my application to move into some senior housing in San Francisco, but even more so because i’ve lost my inspiration for writing website material, so the last few months of posts have been forced and pallid.
Worse yet, i’m having more and more mental lapses and am increasingly worried that my mind is deteriorating faster than my body.
Like last Sunday when i took Sybil to the Marin Farmers’ Market and spotted some pickling cucumber starts that JoAnn wanted. Chortling over my good luck at finding them so late, i selected three of the finest and very carefully nestled them into my shopping cart where they wouldn’t fall over. At the next booth, i had bought some quark and smoked gouda from John at the Oakdale Cheese booth and was chatting with him about a new cheese he’s experimenting with when Sybil inquired, “Did you pay for those starts?”
Aieeeeeee! So i snuck back and paid without their even noticing, thank God, that i’d made a detour between the shelf of starts and the cash register. When i returned to Sybil, she handed me the cheese i’d paid for but left on the counter at the cheese stall.
That sort of thing. Over and over.
So i’m redoubling my efforts to do things to stimulate my mind and yesterday realized it would be a good thing for both of us if i called an old friend back in Texas. We were quite close in high school and during our undergraduate years, but after i moved to California we didn’t contact each other often enough and about twenty years ago lost contact. Then last year a mutual friend put us back together, and now he’s retired and i follow him on Facebook, but we hadn’t spoken.
The call was a delight, as he was happy to hear from me and we entertained each other by recalling hilarious events we’d participated in and witty lines the other had uttered. The call was so entertaining that it ran on for over an hour until it finally got to be his bedtime.
But there was a problem.
As the call went on, it became obvious that his mind was slipping, as he’d forget a topic we’d already discussed and bring it up again. And again. I was too kind to bring this to his attention but found it deeply saddening to see so clearly that a dear old friend was going gaga. Oh, how awful.
But then this morning i realized that i could well have been wrong about his repeating himself and that at very least i’d probably been doing the same thing while he was being equally kind.
Yeah, we have to prop each other up.
Meanwhile, some rich country humor:
