Friday, February 10, 2023

Thinking

One recent evening, we celebrated my youngest grandson’s second birthday. He’s an affable little fellow with tousled blond hair, bright eyes, and a quizzical expression.

He loves to run and jump. He’s talking in a steady stream of phrases now, some of which resemble a dialect the rest of us can comprehend. He loves to throw things.

At the party, he was clearly excited by all the visitors and presents and the general sense of excitement in the air. But when the biggest moment arrived, he seemed utterly perplexed.

When he was lifted into his seat and the singing started and the cake with two lit candles was placed before him, he just stared at it. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do next.

“I guess we forgot to brief him on his responsibilities as the birthday boy,” his Mom quipped.

With a little help from his friends, he figured it out. Mostly. Afterwards, he ran around person to person, singing out “Happy Birthday to you!”

***

At one time or another, we all face situations like my grandson did where we feel disoriented. If we are two years old when that happens, it’s to be expected and cute, but if we are more like 82, it can be frustrating and scary. And not funny at all.

The prospect of dementia among aging people is one of the most terrifying aspects of growing old. It’s one thing for your body to fall apart, your career to end, your possessions to be discarded, and too many of those you’ve treasured to pass away.

All of that is bad enough. But to realize that your mind may be drifting off into the fog must be the most terrifying thing of all. Despite this, I find myself joking about it at times, particularly when I am nervous. Like when I try to be entertaining.

But it is not a joke.

There is some hope, I’ve read, that medical science will find ways to stave off dementia in the not-too-distant future, but until then I suppose we’re all frightfully vulnerable. As for me, I guess my mental capacity is robust enough — for now — that when I make those jokes about myself, apparently they don’t ring true.

Like the other day when one of my sons told me, “Dad, I don’t think you ave to worry too much about dementia. If anything you may have the opposite problem.”

Oh dear.

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