I’ve started to think of my brain as a somewhat leaky bucket. In the old days, my memories came with an iron-clad guarantee. If something happened, I remembered. If I remembered something, it happened.
Now? I have no idea what’s happening.
Today I was riding in the car with my husband. He has a new obsession with podcasts since I showed him how easy it is to subscribe to them with an iPhone. Now whenever we go anywhere, a podcast plays. Fine.
Out of nowhere, I said to him, “Hey, have you ever thought about doing your own podcast?” and he said, “Yes, and I already told you that. In fact, I told you I asked ____________ if he would do one with me. I tell you things and you say ‘uh-huh’ but you aren’t really paying attention.” And so on.
Now, here’s the thing. Back in the day, I would have argued that point. I would have insisted that he said no such thing. I would certainly have remembered that, right?
Now, doubt sloshes around in my leaky bucket. Is he forgetful or am I? Did he only think he told me something or did I just pretend to listen and fail to hear it? Did I forget? Did he forget?
My hunch–completely undependable like a ladder missing rungs–is that he thinks he tells me things but doesn’t actually tell me. This is my working theory, my blame-shifting explanation. He is, after all, four years older than me. He talks to a lot more people than I do. I think he tells other people things that he thinks he told me. Most days I literally don’t talk to anyone other than my kids and him. (Sad but true.) Wouldn’t I remember even the idle chit-chat between us?
Then again, maybe it’s me. Maybe I am losing my mind, one sharp corner at a time. Maybe I am just not paying attention. Maybe I am sleepwalking through conversations and when I wake, the information vanishes like a crazy dream.
I don’t know.
I prefer to think that he’s wrong and that I am right. However, at this point, your guess is as good as mine.
(Just don’t tell me that I really am losing my mind. I’d rather not know.)
(But ask me what my childhood telephone number was and to sing the Brady Bunch theme and I’m your girl.)
Actual Unretouched Photo 
Shall I make arrangements to come visit you in the home where people get sent when they no longer have their properly functioning minds?
No, no – never. I’m on your side on this one. You have always been good at organization – and even inside your mind, things are neatly laid out in properly labeled boxes. Neatly… Properly. Labeled. Boxes.
You just need more time for relaxing. Time to breathe. To sleep, even.
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when our brains are so full…how can we remember everything? There are days when I am sharp, others not so much.
you need more sleep ha ha
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I am losing my short term memory. Long term? I know my grandma’s telephone number from when I was a child. And I never once called her.
But, last week while helping someone little on the potty, he said “I want to flush.” This seemed a reasonable request, as a boy who wants to flush is a GOOD THING in my little world.-
So he pulled up his pants, and I flushed the toilet.
(Insert major amounts of weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth here.)
Then this dialog followed:
Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot.
But you just said I could!
You can flush it again.
But there’s no water in it!
When it stops running, you can flush it again.
But there’s nothing in it!
I’ll blow my nose and you can flush that.
But I wanted to flush my poop!
I DO remember all of my personal failures. And none of my successes, which does make me wonder if maybe I haven’t had any.
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