The Mind is Vastly Underappreciated
Until slivers of memories dribble away into the abyss, we overlook our mind's vast capabilities and importance to our lives. I am a testament to this unfortunate lack of appreciation.
I hesitate to share this experience with you because it is quite personal and embarrassing, but here goes. On my way to a read-and-critique session with my author friends on a sunny December morning, I tried to sing "Silent Night" in the cab of my pickup. I've sung it thousands of times if I've sung it once, and I usually sing it a few times during the Christmas season each year.
On this particular occasion, the melody and lyrics alluded me. The gray matter in my skull kept churning to no avail. Finally, several minutes later, the beautiful notes finally returned; but as I began to belt it out, the words soon turned to la, la, la!
See, I told you it was embarrassing. A grown man shouldn't be singing Christmas songs to himself in his truck of all places, let alone admit it for all the world to see.
Once again, for no explanation my memory had failed me. I hate when that happens! Some things, especially "Silent Night," should NEVER fail me.
If that Holiest-of-Songs I've sung thousands of times can evaporate, what else am I missing? The name of a childhood sweetheart? Perhaps, but that wouldn't be devastating.
But wait! What if I forgot the ever-important wedding anniversary date. Heavens! If that happens you might as well shoot me; but you better be quick before my wife beats you to it! Ohhh, how I dread what could come next.
Maybe, I shouldn't have guzzled so many alcoholic drinks in my late 20's and early 30's while imitating John Travolta at those disco joints? I remember one of my friends' mom waving her finger and warning us in that screachy voice of the wicked witch of the west. "Too much liquor is going to kill your brain cells."
I guess I should have paid closer heed. Nay, and give up all that fun? No way!
I love the memories of those crazy times! Oh yeah, those might fade too. How will I live without the vision of my buddy passing out at his own bachelor party from too many tequila shots? Life just wouldn't be the same!
It all started several years ago, about the time I retired at age 53 — far too early in life to be losing memories. At first it was an occasional introduction, where in the middle of exchanging particulars, I'd forget names of some of my closest friends. Red-faced, I'd stand there stammering until someone rushed to my aid — now that's embarrassing.
That would be bad enough if it stopped there, but the memory dissipation has only escalated over the years. My dear wife could stand in front of me and tell me who we were to visit later that afternoon, and I'd forget it by the time I'd turn around and sit at the computer to type this message.
Sometimes, when my wife shares this tendency with others, my closest buddies chalk it up to "selective hearing." Thanks! With friends like that who needs.... What is that saying?
By now you can understand the predicament. Ohhh, the pain of growing ancient.
Anyway, I better hurry up and finish this message or I might.... Mmm, where was I?
I hesitate to share this experience with you because it is quite personal and embarrassing, but here goes. On my way to a read-and-critique session with my author friends on a sunny December morning, I tried to sing "Silent Night" in the cab of my pickup. I've sung it thousands of times if I've sung it once, and I usually sing it a few times during the Christmas season each year.
On this particular occasion, the melody and lyrics alluded me. The gray matter in my skull kept churning to no avail. Finally, several minutes later, the beautiful notes finally returned; but as I began to belt it out, the words soon turned to la, la, la!
See, I told you it was embarrassing. A grown man shouldn't be singing Christmas songs to himself in his truck of all places, let alone admit it for all the world to see.
Once again, for no explanation my memory had failed me. I hate when that happens! Some things, especially "Silent Night," should NEVER fail me.
If that Holiest-of-Songs I've sung thousands of times can evaporate, what else am I missing? The name of a childhood sweetheart? Perhaps, but that wouldn't be devastating.
But wait! What if I forgot the ever-important wedding anniversary date. Heavens! If that happens you might as well shoot me; but you better be quick before my wife beats you to it! Ohhh, how I dread what could come next.
Maybe, I shouldn't have guzzled so many alcoholic drinks in my late 20's and early 30's while imitating John Travolta at those disco joints? I remember one of my friends' mom waving her finger and warning us in that screachy voice of the wicked witch of the west. "Too much liquor is going to kill your brain cells."
I guess I should have paid closer heed. Nay, and give up all that fun? No way!
I love the memories of those crazy times! Oh yeah, those might fade too. How will I live without the vision of my buddy passing out at his own bachelor party from too many tequila shots? Life just wouldn't be the same!
It all started several years ago, about the time I retired at age 53 — far too early in life to be losing memories. At first it was an occasional introduction, where in the middle of exchanging particulars, I'd forget names of some of my closest friends. Red-faced, I'd stand there stammering until someone rushed to my aid — now that's embarrassing.
That would be bad enough if it stopped there, but the memory dissipation has only escalated over the years. My dear wife could stand in front of me and tell me who we were to visit later that afternoon, and I'd forget it by the time I'd turn around and sit at the computer to type this message.
Sometimes, when my wife shares this tendency with others, my closest buddies chalk it up to "selective hearing." Thanks! With friends like that who needs.... What is that saying?
By now you can understand the predicament. Ohhh, the pain of growing ancient.
Anyway, I better hurry up and finish this message or I might.... Mmm, where was I?