Forget Me Not!

“Come on, teatimes,” I called to Rufus, after giving his food a final stir. I sailed into the dining room and put his bowl on the table. I called again.

“Come-on, tea times”.

Why was Rufus sitting in the kitchen with a puzzled look on his face.

“Ouch,” I said to myself, picked up the bowl, and backtracked to the kitchen, putting the bowl down on ‘his’ table. No wonder the poor dog looked confused.

On another occasion, I was wrapping up the leftovers to go into the frig. Where did they end up, in the bathroom. How, oh how, could I be so stupid.

Really, these senior moments are becoming all too frequent.

It was changing sheets day and I was going to put the set of pink sheets on the bed. Trouble is, I didn’t know where the pink sheets could be found. They were not in the linen closet and I checked out the linen closet downstairs which revealed nothing. Perhaps I had put them in one of the drawers in the spare bedroom downstairs – remote, but possible - no, they were not there. In desperation I looked into the semi storage room, just in case. There was no sign of any pink sheets.

I was getting myself really worked up about these bed linens. After all, a pair of sheets and pillow cases didn’t just walk out of the house. The more I fussed, the worse the situation became. Finally, I asked my husband, somewhat tersely, if he had seen the pink sheets.

“Yes”, he said, “they’re on the bed.”

Apart from these bizarre trivialities that arrive more frequently as we grow older, there are the more delinquent problems that affect our sense of comfort. For example, going out without our teeth (partial plate) because we completely forgot about it; thus causing some whistling sounds through the teeth that are not there as we speak. There is also the most embarrassing gap in our teeth when we let our guard down and actually smile broadly

The car keys and our inability to remember where we put them can cause some screaming, and swearing; especially when we are in a hurry to go out and they are nowhere to be found and we have an appointment or deadline to meet.

Finally, there are spectacles. For most of my life I have been short-sighted and was never able to see much beyond the end of my nose without glasses, which I wore all the time. On becoming bi-focal, I took the glasses off when I wanted to read, or look at something close, but they were never far from me.

This last year I had cataracts in both eyes removed. It was such a glorious feeling to see clearly into the far distance again; I felt liberated. I knew before the operation that I would have to wear glasses for reading, but had temporarily forgotten about this on a shopping spree shortly after my last operation.

I went to buy some clothes and no matter how hard I tried to decipher the price and size tag, nothing less than putting the garment on the floor, and then zooming in on it until I could see would suffice.

This incident precipitated a furious round of activity to equip myself with reading glasses to be placed strategically around the house. Not for me glasses on a chain around my neck. If anything dates you it was specs on a chain around your neck. I did try, but the glasses either slipped out of the chain holders or I caught the chain on something and it broke.

I now have glasses in the den, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, lounge, dining room and handbag. Yet still, I walk from room to room carrying or wearing the specs and then leaving them in the destination room. When I return to the original room and can’t find them all hell breaks loose and my blood pressure shoots way up high.

So life goes on, and does ‘forget me not’ get any better – no, I don’t think so. It goes with the territory and we have to devise a plan. I’ll let you know when I have one.

The Old Biddy