It Slipped My Mind - A Slippery Slope

It’s a conundrum. I often hear “Help me to remember…Don’t let me forget…” yet I am one who can (1) lose hammers and screwdrivers in the midst of a task without taking three steps during the process; (2) set a phone or a purse on top of the car then drives off; (3) frantically search for keys while holding them or glasses while wearing them.

These scenarios don’t happen often, but the sensation I have when something similar occurs is a strange one - a combination of feeling simultaneously blindsided and incompetent. Once during my days as a foreign language/English teacher, I meticulously prepared for a sub with lesson plans, extra duties lists and seating charts then walked into the classroom the day of my appointment to the astonishment of both my sub and myself. Fortunately I made it on time when I came to my senses.

“Prospective memory” is the term for this, and it’s another conundrum that we older folks, who tend to lose some of this in the aging process, seem to be better at remembering daily life stuff than younger folks do. That has its own label - “age-prospective memory paradox.”

It’s not quite the same as multi-tasking, which is in reality a rarity, but it’s keeping something in your thoughts while doing something different at the same time. Once we intend to remember, a grand circuit of varying brain parts gets involved to make that intention reality. Add the time factor, and it gets even busier in our gray matter. Thank goodness that most of these circuits light up automatically.

Any miscues caused by medical conditions, illnesses, medications, alcohol or brain injuries, in even a single connection in the circuitry, can foul up the process. Oh, yes, and age. Can’t forget that ‘condition,’ since I hear regularly that’s the culprit in most of my frustrations.

With wisdom that accompanies aging, I have developed new and improved routines and also learned to rely on colorful post-it notes to avoid wasting time and energy, both cherished commodities in my boomerhood. Forgetting, misplacing and backtracking send my anxiety level to new peaks faster these days, so putting a post-it note on my steering wheel the night before an important errand is fun and efficient. I don’t even care if you laugh at that.

Because I didn’t want to spend the bulk of my retirement looking for my keys, I first took my car fob off the ring and gave it its own purse pocket. I don’t have to have it in my hand to lock/unlock doors or go, so that solved that. The main key ring never leaves the house door because after entering, I turn right around and put it in the doorknob for grabbing on my way out. Works well for me.

Next I’ll be working on a tactic to “remember to remember” my submission deadline. If you’re reading this column on the second Thursday of December, the PN staff accepted it late. Blame it on my prospective memory. But hey! Don’t forget to take your meds and remember to send in that invoice.

(For 12/12/2024 PN)