I'm tackling another letter..."R"

Not really sure what I am going to write about. For sure it's not going to be about deleting an entire blog posting because I have never done that. Weird concept even? I mean why write it and then post it if only to delete it? Odd. Oddly odd.

So the alphabet blog is up to the letter "R" and I can do something with that..... 

I think I am going to choose the word "remember".

Wanna know why? I think I am losing my memory. I chatted with my sisters about this when we were together last week. I want to attribute the slips and losses to the fact that I have had so many surgeries and anesthesia procedures in the last 12 months and maybe I can. But what if I can't?

I mention my blank spots to my husband and say things like 'it should come back' or 'it will clear up'...and he says if it's due to all the surgeries 'what must Joe Montana's memory be like'? And I'm like...'who cares'?

Do you feel like you were there when this conversation happened?

I feel added stress about losing my memory because my sisters count ON ME to REMEMBER everything. They have masterfully blocked out big fat hairy chunks of our tragic youth and when I jog their memories with my uncanny recall.....it makes for a fantastic afternoon of tripping......

Lucky for me I have my blog where all of my crap is vomited out in choppy chunks of yuck. Lucky for me.

In the last 5 months I have been under anesthesia 3 times. In last 12 months, 7 times. I feel foggy sometimes when I try to REMEMBER details about nothing in particular. Who cares if bits and pieces of innocuous stuff fall away? Well...I guess I do. How much stuff does a person really need to have at the ready to recall?  

The thing for me is that my memory was always effortless. Yes, I know I will hear from readers about aging...yes...I am aging. But my recall is astounding and my loss is recent and not really gradual...more SUDDEN. It gives me pause.

I can remember being 3 years old. Like down to the plaid skirt, pig skin shoes that were too snug for my chubbed up feet, and the static cling in my hair from the heater and the turtleneck shirt.

But damn if I can remember the name of the gal that I worked with at Macy's Herald Square. I can see her face but the name escapes me. Older, blonde, fake affected accent just to sound cosmopolitan...anyone remember her?

Dang!

I need to believe that this loss is temporary. I am slowing down in so many other ways....like when the Jeopardy answer is on the tip of my tongue but the smart person on TV says it before I can spit it out......I can live with that.

My daughter has a crazy good memory. She has a "calendar" brain. Literally. We have always attributed this to her stroke and the way her brain accommodated the area of loss. But my husband has a weird memory ability too...like for phone numbers and names, and my memory is (was?) pretty great so maybe stroke or not, Grace was destined to be a memory bank.

These are disjointed thoughts that only go to prove my scattered relationship with my remembering. I am thinking of spending some time in a hyperbaric chamber....pure oxygen to the old brain could help unclog the fog. Thoughts?

I hear about these OXYGEN BARS....maybe I have to go to L.A. for that? So movie star cool right?

Or I could let it go....I mean gosh, life keeps going on and so many memories are being made by my family every day. If the lost ones stay lost...I can replace them with these new cool memories of my greatest assets...my girls. I can get on board with that.

Here's another thought....how about the stuff I wish I could forget?

No?

Nothing fits that category. I could always romanticize my memories the way my husband does. It is such a delightfully charming way to make real life seem magically make-believe. I have times when this penchant of his annoys me.....but when his romanticization (I totally made up this word) is around how he fell in love with me and how he thinks (remembers?) I looked...well who's gonna argue with that poetic license? Not this girl.

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