49’er

I joined the ranks of the 49 year olds yesterday.

And I’m paying the price now (3:00 in the morning) for eating the birthday cake late in the evening!

That’s part of being 49 too I guess.

The body doesn’t process things like it used to.

And being up late at night is the body’s way of giving me time to ponder.

And with almost a half century of memories swirling in the brain, I need lots of time to ponder.

I’ve figured out that the shelf life of memories in my already over-crowded brain is just a few months.

There’s just no room.

It’s completely full.

So those things I remember now were sensational enough to push out something else and to latch on to some fiber of my memory.

That’s not true for others in my family.

My son was telling me this weekend about a game we went to together back in the 90’s.

I have no recollection at all.

My daughter tells me things she remembers when she was just a toddler…A TODDLER!

I don’t remember her being a toddler.

My wife remembers everything I’ve done my entire life that deserved flowers or jewelry.  EVERYTHING!

And we started dating over 32 years ago.

Maybe that’s why I’m crotchety…when you can’t remember things, it’s a lot easier to want things done the same way or have things in the same place…all the time.

Maybe that’s why I change jobs every year or two (at the most)…when you can’t remember things, it’s a lot easier to start something new than try and remember why you’re in that situation to begin with.

Maybe that’s why I hear a song for the upteenth time and still can’t remember the words…when your mind is already maxed out with those few things that have meaning, it’s not desirable to remember things that don’t have immediate relevance.

It’s not all bad.

Since I don’t remember much, I can hear the same story time and time again and still experience the surprise and the emotion like it’s the very first time.

Since I don’t remember much, every time I tell a story it gets a new spin, and the experiences I’ve had in life seem incredibly richer over time.

Since I don’t remember much, it’s hard to dwell on those little things that may create great depression in others.  Those painful memories just aren’t very poignant in a memory-strained mind.

But explain to me this – the things I do remember don’t seem to make any sense at all.

I remember certain phone numbers but can’t remember the one’s I dial the most.

And those that I do remember, I can recall years later after not contacting that person during that time.

And yet, I forget my zip code…something I must have written hundreds or thousands of times.

I remember exactly where I put something, but sometimes I don’t remember what I put there.

I remember exactly who I called, but often times I have no memory of why I called them.

I remember the name of the restaurant I ate at, but I have no clue how to get there.

So here I sit pondering…remembering things, and yet not remembering things.

Thank goodness I have those around me who remind me constantly of what I said or did.

Thank goodness I have those around me who give me directions to get to a place that I’ve been to countless times.

Thank goodness I have those around me who act like my on line phone book and give me phone numbers for those who I’ve called many times and yet still need to be reminded of their phone numbers.

And thank goodness I have those around me who remind me of those special moments that I’m supposed to remember allowing me to focus on those things that I absolutely have to remember.

If I’m this bad now, I wonder what it will be like at the latter part of the next half century!

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