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In a recent conversation about aging, a friend said, "I feel as if I'm being robbed." She was talking about losing bits of herself and her abilities as she ages. I liked the way she phrased it and wondered whether I feel the same way. Do I feel robbed? I can't walk as far or as fast as I once did. Or is it just that I don't walk as far or as fast?
The problem with my memory (I know I talk about this a lot) isn't really memory as such. It's more about a curious loss of sharpness and mental capacity. Numbers look different. Sequencing numbers is different. I used to be a whiz at arithmetic (not math, I assure you, but adding and subtracting, and the times-tables).
What is happening to my mind is very real but too subtle to put into words; the more my capabilities diminish, the less I can document how it feels. It's very hard to explain how I can't follow a line of thought any longer, since the very situation precludes being able to describe it.
Do I feel robbed? What has been taken from me? I still have remnants of everything, so I can't catalogue absolute losses. That's the thing: I really didn't resonate with my friend's statement of feeling robbed because I still have so much: mobility is at the top of the list. I still have working hips and knees (and a massage therapist who keeps them well oiled). The memory thing? Well, live in the moment, honey, and you won't miss those old memories. One night recently when I couldn't sleep I was running over every single sin of my life—sins of omission as well as commission. And I don't even believe in sin. Well, those are memories I can gladly give away to any robber.
Let's face it. I don't have anything at all to complain about. Why wallow when I don't have to? A time for wallowing may come later, but for now, it's all good, as too many people say too often.
Blog1: http://www.fastandfearlesscooking.com
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