The Ways of the Elderly 3.

WAY III

What seems to have really intensified since “Way I” and on through “Way II” and now into “Way III” is forgetfulness.

I know I am forgetful. Hub knows I am forgetful. And my children and neighbors know it as well. They have too often seen the missing pepper grinder in the fridge, the fresh lettuce blasted in the freezer, and the missing cookbook in the knives-I-no-longer-use drawer. But one small comfort is my long-term memory is reasonably in tact.

In light of that and assuming that this is common among seniors, could this explain why seniors are so secretive about the present? And why they cannot divulge out-takes of present time and place? Maybe there is no present because as quickly as it comes it dissolves into forgetfulness. So quickly that there is no time to take it up, turn it over, and have a good look at it.

But I digress. In my particular circumstance so far, all that occurred in Way I and Way II was so self-deprecatory and depressive. And so I begin to wonder, ‘Is there not an upside to this elderly stage of existence?’
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Oh yes, there is. Very much so. But only just today, I came to that realization and I must quickly get it down before it escapes from memory.

Now I already know from blogging and reading others blogs that some kind of aura exists that directs commonality of mood and thought of humankind according to calendar times and seasons. While I was writing this I found a surprising number of other blogs contemplating similar subject matter, although from widely diverse perspectives.

But, unfortunately, contemplation of aging can be somewhat depressing to those of us nearing the climax of life. And then, if you add to that, the dreariness of February, that desperate time when Spring is too far away to look to the future, and Winter too fixed in place to look to the past, the whole conglomerate of it all becomes rather debilitating.

But be of Good Cheer because between the Dumbo ears, behind the bulbous nose, and above the skin-wizened neck, there is a bit of a G-Spot, locked between long-term memory and short-term forgetfulness. To explain further, this is the spot that magnifies, amidst all the awful changes in appearance, something to be truly grateful for among the ‘Curses of the Fullness of Age’. A tiny spot stimulated to a frenzy at this time of year by, what I choose to call, Valentine-like-loves.

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