Posts Tagged ‘ forgetfulness ’


Apr 11th, 2012 | By | Category: Senior Moments Blog

In the very middle of what seems like a stimulating and provocative conversation, a thought occurs. Someone else, however, is speaking. By the time they finish, the thought is lost, gone, completely off the screen. Someone says, “Jerry, you had something to add?” “No,”comes the reply. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Refusing to admit that the thought has flown, some clumsy excuse or embarrassing admission of its loss is about all one can do. When that experience becomes more frequent and the forgotten idea or comment occurs more frequently, one becomes aware that it is time to acquire another strategy or choose to participate less in conversational interchange. The latter is likely to be noticed, particularly if you have been known to be an active and astute participant. When one retreats to less and less contributions, others may pick up the slack, without noticing. Someone, however, may eventually call attention to your reticence


Dec 7th, 2011 | By | Category: Senior Moments Blog

Occasional reminders, nudges and grins remind me that I have either missed a loop, left a zipper undone or have a wayward shoestring trailing in my wake.

These seem to be three of the signs of aging. So easily overlooked, they seem to occur with rather increasing frequency. Its almost as bad, as the dropped letters that become more and more numerous as I type.

One day I was in the office of the Assisted Care Facility, where Mom lived. A young staff member was there, at work. Somehow, the subject turned, likely I turned it, to respect of older persons. I waxed


Nov 22nd, 2011 | By | Category: Senior Moments Blog

It happens more than I would like to admit. That sudden lapse of memory when something, some name, some adddress, some piece of information I needed to remember is gone, disappeared, totally lost and forgotten. That happened the other day when three guests were joining my mom for lunch at her Living Care Center. It was her birthday and the arrangments had all been set in place, including a special ice cream cake, her favorite. We were gathered in a private dining room and served by the staff. It was a special, not to be ruined by anthing, occasion.

Upon escorting Mom’s guests inside from the parking lot, I suddenly lost the name of the person who had chauffeured the trio over from their Assisted Living facility. Before entering the building, I had to try to find a way to recover her name, one I know well, a person who is thoroughly a delight and with whom I have visited numerous times. It would not come.