By: Jamie Parker
Updated: Dec. 18, 2015
Originally Published: Aug. 7, 2015
The concept of memory decline as I age was something I understood in theory, but I never anticipated it would manifest so rapidly or dramatically. When the inevitable memory loss began, I hoped it would first expunge the traumatic recollections of my past and then gradually filter out the less significant details, like phone numbers or addresses from my myriad moves. Instead, I found myself repeatedly asking my children the same questions, unaware that I had already received their answers, my mind darting back to my ever-growing to-do list. Soon, I was unable to retain a phone number long enough to write it down after looking it up. My kids started joking—at least I hope they were joking—about pinning an index card with my name and address inside my jacket, just in case a kind stranger had to help me find my way home after forgetting where I was headed.
To combat my vanishing memory, I resorted to carrying a microcassette recorder. This little device was intended to capture fleeting thoughts—like “cucumbers,” “dry cleaner,” or “Target”—that I desperately needed to remember. Although it somewhat helped, it also served as a stark reminder of how much I had begun to struggle. Once, while driving my son to a weekend event, I glanced back at him only to realize his clothes were ridiculously small. I asked him to remind me to buy new ones when we got home. He, never one to miss a chance to deflect responsibility, suggested, “Why don’t you record a message for yourself?” Brilliant! I repeated the reminder into the recorder.
Moments later, the traffic light changed, and as I caught another glance at him in the rearview mirror, I again noted his ill-fitting clothes. I turned to him and asked for the reminder once more. “You just said that 10 seconds ago!” he exclaimed. Naturally, I was skeptical; kids often exaggerate, especially when it comes to bad grades. He wisely proposed that I play back my last message to myself, which was terrifying. In less than 15 seconds, I had completely forgotten the same thought I had just voiced multiple times. (You won’t be shocked to learn I eventually lost that tape recorder and its replacement too).
These memory lapses made me anxious about possibly showing early signs of Alzheimer’s disease. A visit to my doctor led to a familiar query: was I forgetting short-term or long-term information? “Short-term,” I replied. “It’s like information just zips right through me.” Her response, a well-worn phrase, was, “At your age, that’s completely normal.” However, I don’t identify with being “that age,” which always feels like a decade away.
It was somewhat comforting to know that I wasn’t alone; my friends were grappling with similar challenges. Our minds were cluttered with our children’s schedules, school project details, invitations awaiting RSVPs, and, of course, what was I supposed to make for dinner? I often returned from the grocery store, having forgotten the one essential item I had on my list at least half the time.
One friend had a unique method: she would tuck notes into her bra, retrieving them when she reached the store. Anything she forgot to address would end up back in her bra for the next day. (She claimed it was cheaper than a silicone enhancement.) Another friend found success in writing reminders on the inside of her hand—the ultimate “PalmPilot.”
We even had an informal competition among ourselves, sharing our most forgetful moments. I had been the reigning champion until one friend confessed to using her car’s remote to summon the elevator in her office building.
What else could we do but laugh and shift our perspective? After all, my sieve-like memory has made me an excellent confidant; people feel safe sharing secrets with me. Plus, I’ve rediscovered the joy of re-reading beloved books, often not recognizing the storyline until I’m nearly finished with them.
Eventually, I decided to embrace my memory shortcomings rather than hide from them and ordered a personalized license plate that reads “IFORGOT.” This plate has proven invaluable, especially when I accidentally drove onto a military base or took a wrong turn down a one-way street. It all makes sense when I finally locate my car in a bustling parking lot and the good Samaritan spots my plate.
In conclusion, while memory loss can be alarming, it’s often humorous and relatable. Sharing these experiences with friends and finding new ways to cope can lighten the burden. Plus, engaging in the joys of life, whether through reading or confiding in others, helps make the journey more enjoyable.
For those exploring family-building options, check out resources like Make a Mom’s article on home insemination kits or their insights on couples’ fertility journeys. Additionally, for comprehensive information on fertility services, Johns Hopkins Medicine offers excellent resources.
Keyphrase: Memory Loss in Aging
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