I’m pretty sure that I have discussed my failing memory in a past column, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t quite remember.

For a number of years my forgetfulness has been a growing concern of mine. It’s not that I forget major things, though occasionally I do. It’s little things that aren’t of much importance, but in some ways that’s perhaps more disconcerting.

Like entering a room and forgetting why I’m there. Nine times out of 10 this happens in the kitchen. I figure that I probably went there to get a snack even though I have no memory of wanting one.

I solve the problem by getting a snack, but I may have, in fact been going into the kitchen to do the dishes or prepare a meal. I have an inkling that it really wasn’t a snack, but I’ll take the snack over work any day. But, it still bothers me that I forgot why I was there in the first place.

Then there’s the problem of running into someone I have known for years and can’t for the life of me remember his or her name. This doesn’t happen with people I see on a frequent basis, only those I rarely see but have known for a long time. I try to avoid any lengthy conversation because that just may reveal that not only have I forgotten the person’s name, but I’ve also forgotten why I even know them.

I can remember the names of every darn kid in my kindergarten class of more than 50 years ago, but I simply cannot remember this person’s name. That is truly annoying.

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I was so concerned about my memory issues that I started asking people in my age category, even some of my kindergarten classmates whose names I do remember, if they were having similar memory lapses.

It turns out that they do. Other people my age go into rooms and forget why. Many of my peers confirmed that it is not unusual for them to forget the name of someone they know.

Apparently I am not the only one who forgets to take meat out of the freezer and either has to go to the store or be creative in making the evening’s meal. I am not alone in forgetting to put the trash out on pickup day or discovering when I go to take clothes out of the dryer in search of clean underwear that they are still in the washer.

Obviously there are a lot of downsides to the ever failing memory, but there are some upsides to it too. As the old joke goes, I can now hide my own Easter eggs.

I recently discovered I really could go through the rest of my life without ever buying any more books. The other day I pulled a Stephen King novel out of the bookcase that I had read eight or nine years ago. Much to my delight and perhaps a little horror I found that I have absolutely no memory of reading it.

This seems to be the case with a lot of movies too, so there’s another form of repeat entertainment. There really is a silver lining to the loss of gray matter.

And here’s another plus, my husband, whose memory is even worse than mine, and I can have a fight and then forget about it within the hour. It’s not like we resolved the issues and decided to forget about it, we really do forget about it. I do have an inkling that I was right about whatever it was, but since I don’t remember what I’m right about it really doesn’t matter.

Everyone will have memory issues at some point in their lives and as annoying as it can be there are some advantages. And the way I see it; well I don’t exactly remember the way I see it, but I do have an inkling that it was pretty darn good.

Editor’s note: This column appears a day late this week, on Wednesday versus Tuesday because Sharon forgot to file it on Monday.


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