Memory Loss

What day is it today? Oh, my computer says Tuesday. I used to have a snap sharp memory, carrying dozens of details and dates, phone numbers and email addresses. These days I have trouble remembering what day it is, sometimes even what month it is. I lay this loss of short term, and even long term, recall is due to the complete shift in my lifestyle, aging, and, to some degree, ALS FTD. Regardless of the reasons, the memory is gone.

If you had asked me a decade ago things which I thought were important in my personality, good in my person, I would have said things like generosity, helpfulness, accepting, flexible. Those things are still within me today, unaffected by ALS. Memory, on the other hand, is a mental muscle. It is not something you list as an important personal trait, as far as I am concerned. Having a good memory reflects neither well or poorly on your personality. It simply reflects where you focus, and how you focus on the things around you.

Except I hate this loss as well, this missing mental acuity. I dislike that I am so unbusy that I forget what day it is. I hate that I miss things, even when I have them in my calendar, because I forget to check my calendar, and I miss the reminders, or forget them as soon as they have played. I hate that I miss my children's birthdays, depending on Facebook to remind me, as unreliable a source as there ever was. I hate that I can't remember what I bought at Costco today without doing a fierce mental grilling.

My Dad's mind was fairly sharp until he died, but nearing 80 had its impact on his short term memory. My Mom is dealing with the early stages of Alshiemer's, so her short term memory gets a pass. Yet she was sharp as a tack right up until 80. Then there is me, failing in body and mind, at the ripe old age of 63. I'm an easy 20 years off the pace, growing old and weak before my time. The loss of short term memory is only one thing; there are many others these days. All of them leave me worn and wondering. Is this really worth it? For now, maybe. Maybe I forget what makes it matter, or not matter. Maybe I just go on without thinking, without remembering.