Forgotten but not gone

Ilene Black

BETTING ON BLACK

Over the past year or so, I have noticed that I am getting more and more forgetful. At least I THINK it’s over the last year. I don’t actually remember how long it’s been.

Everyone forgets things. You forget something on your grocery list, or forget to call someone back, or forget to put the clothes in the dryer. That’s natural. But forgetting to put your glasses on when you cannot see a blasted thing without them, and walking out the door and wondering why everything is so blurry, now THAT’S not natural.

For years, I have been calling my sons by both their names. I address Georgie as “GeorgieDonnie.” And Donnie as “DonnieGeorgie.” I do call George by his correct name. At least I THINK I do. I can’t remember.

Have you ever tried to get into a car that wasn’t yours? I have. My car is an average, very common dark gray Chevy Impala. TONS of them around. Walking through the parking lot at Michaels, approaching what I believe is my car, I hit the “unlock” feature on my key fob. I hear the little beep beep.

I proceed to “my” car and almost break my fingers off trying to open the car door. I look around to see if anyone saw me. Okay, I can’t lie. I looked around to make sure there were no young children around to hear my language. It dawned on me that this was not my car when I saw a baby seat in the back. Um. Nope.

I can remember my first day of kindergarten and what I wore (Red, black and white plaid jumper with a white blouse and black shoes). I can remember my first pair of high heels (I was in 6th grade and the shoes were white). I can remember the perfume I wore to my 8th grade graduation (Evening in Paris –blue bottle). I can remember where my lockers were in high school.

I can remember my hospital room numbers when I gave birth to both my sons. (Georgie—Room 183 and Donnie—– Room 201). I can remember the dates that both my sons left for college (Georgie—August 18, 1999 and Donnie—August 23, 2003).

I have forgotten to put coffee in the coffeemaker, so that when George goes to pour his morning cup of joe, he gets nothing but hot water. I have scorched more than one burner cover because I forgot to take them off the stove before I turn it on. This creates a wonderful, lingering aroma of burnt tin throughout the house. I have forgotten to put water in the pan while steaming fresh green beans, filling the house with another unforgettable scent of blackened green beans with a hint of charred Teflon.

I have forgotten my cell phone number, my social security number, and my age. I have had to Google so many things that I should know off the top of my head. Oops. I just had a thought but I forget what it was. It was funny, too. Darn it. You would have liked it.

I was on the computer in our spare bedroom one night when George came in. He asked me, “Were you just in the bathroom ? ” I said yes. He said, “Did you wash your hands ? ” I responded, ” Uh, YEAH. Why ? ” George informed me, “You left the faucet running. ” I left the FAUCET RUNNING. Yep, forgot to turn off the FAUCET.

If it wasn’t for Post-It notes, I’d be in trouble. I write little reminders to myself on them. I staple them to the handle of my purse so that this way I will NOT forget. Next I will be stapling them to the sleeves of my shirts.

In the great book “Winnie the Pooh, ” A.A. Milne wrote, “Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again? ” I feel like that line defines my whole life lately.

I am writing this for all my family and friends who experience the same problem with their memory. I’d name them all, but I can’t remember who they are.

Ilene Black has been a resident of Ewing for most of her life and lives across the street from her childhood home. She and her husband, George, have two sons, Georgie and Donnie.