What’ya got on? Your mind?
I’m not completely certain these days. I know I’m experiencing increasingly large dosages of “senior moments.”
The malady manifests itself numerous ways, chief among them – injecting more typographical and inexcusable grammatical errors into my writing, moving body text around and then failing to delete the edited copy, specifying the correct day of the week for an event but the date doesn’t match. That’s just for starters.
Other top contenders for the “I’m losing it” award include:
Wandering into a room and then wondering what I’m doing there in the first place;
Remembering someone’s name an hour after I badly needed it;
Needing to write things down as reminders and printing information in hard copy form in order to retain anything,
Reciting the names of all six grandkids before honing in on the one I intended to refer to (my parents went through the same ritual with us five siblings, especially when they were upset about something).
Someone sent me a cartoon labeled “The First Senior Moment.” It depicts two dinosaurs balancing on top of a large rock looking out at Noah’s ark departing the flooded terrain, and one says to the other, “Oh, crap! Was that today?”
I’m getting some of those feelings of impending extinction myself.
I acknowledge these travails as a natural(?) extension of the aging process, as frustrating as it feels at times.
What seems to be my saving grace these days is taking weekly line dance lessons. Our group meets for intermediate class sessions in instructor Connie Daniels’ wooden floor basement, then some of us assemble at the Harrisonburg Rec Center the next evening to practice what we’ve learned – or tried to previous evenings.
Not only is this good exercise with a group of fun people, but the routine itself is, I think, offering a generous amount of mental and physical conditioning for us “old people.” There are only so many basic steps to learn; the key to mastering the dances is memorizing the sequences through repetition and regular practice. Dancing helps massage the heart, mind and soul.
Another almost serendipitous happening of late – Millard and Joyce Osborne, an older but remarkably active, involved couple at our congregation, Community Mennonite of Harrisonburg, initiated a 65-and-older group that meets once a month at the church. I’ve had to get over the fact that Anna and I qualify for membership. We play card and board games while checking in with each other and just have fun – activities easily neglected in these fast-paced times. It’s where I belong.
As we enter into another growing season – with all its natural splendor – it’s also another mowing season. It’s nice to have an antique John Deere riding mower to transport my aging carcass across our three-quarter acre lawn; never thought I’d own one. I’m thankful that our house, too small for our family for many years, now is the perfect size for hosting our church small group, weekend guests and our six grandchildren.
In the midst of trying to recall whom I just talked to in person or on the phone, I glance again at a slip of paper affixed to the base of my computer with this reminder: “Remember that if you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back – even if I keep donning items that don’t match – a roof overhead and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of this world. If you have money in the bank, in your wallet and spare change in a dish somewhere you are among the top 8% of the world’s wealthy.”
Thanks for that reminder – along with the recognition that while my brain might be experiencing accelerating atrophy, I am able to rise (slowly) each morning, awaken with the help of a hot shower and robust coffee, kiss my supportive spouse goodbye, breath a prayer for my caring family and head out to the door to gainful employment for a little while longer. Samuel Langhorne Clemens, aka Mark Twain, whom I’d love to sit down and have a long, leisurely conversation with, said it this way: “Work like you don’t need the money. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like nobody is watching.”
A Japanese proverb seconds that emotion: “We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. ”
So, let’s boogie, even if we don’t remember all the steps.
Jim Bishop is public information director – I think – at Eastern Mennonite University. He can be contacted at [email protected].
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