Never Forget This

This weekend, I had the great fortune to spend time with some of my old friends. By old friends, I mean we are all old. In fact, this was a final celebration before we turn, well let’s just say older.

My friends and I planned a wonderful weekend together. We anxiously greeted each other and headed to the first event on our agenda. Now I have always despised that guy who “forgot his wallet.” Well, guess who forgot his wallet? You are right. Me; the host of my old friends. I could have died!

My old friends laughed and laughed at me for my forgetfulness, knowing full well they were just as forgetful as me. But oh, no! They had so much fun ribbing me at doing something they knew I desperately despised; having to mooch money from them. I humbly took the ribbing, knowing it was something I totally deserved.

Now I genuinely believe age is a state of mind. But lately, I feel my mind has a mind of its own and clearly has slowed. I became happy and at the same time, sad to see this happening to my old friends as well.

We pulled into the parking garage by our destination when David said he’d pay the ticket. Of course, looking directly at me, he said he could do this because he brought his wallet.

“Touché,” David, I growled.

We all thanked him and went on our merry way. After a few minutes of walking, David said, “Wait a minute. I left my sunglasses at the parking meter.”

We all got a laugh at David’s expense, especially me. This mental lapse gave me a temporary reprieve from my forgetfulness.

Later, we went to a restaurant. We all had a grand time. We told stories and reminisced about the good old days. Funny how those old minds kicked into gear and tarried deep into the back of the brain tunnels to deliver terrific tales, right on cue, intended to make us feel great about our past. One would never know those old brains were working overtime, just for the old guys. Those pea sized membranes wanted to make us proud. And they did.

We left and went to our vehicle.

“Wait a minute,” says Jim. “I left my phone on the table. I’ll be right back.

Welcome to the forgetting club, Jim!

Now I had two of my old friends who joined me with their memory lapses. But the night was still young.

The next day, I asked Jack, “why were you scurrying around in the house last night when the rest of us went to bed?”

Jack looks at me sheepishly.

“I couldn’t find my wallet. I looked everywhere before I found it in the bottom of my shorts pocket.”

Now, only our friend, Ray, had lost nothing in the last 12 hours. I’m sure he probably lost something, but I just can’t remember.

Yes, getting old has many pitfalls, but as they say, it sure beats the alternative. I guess forgetfulness is just something we have to learn to live with as we age.

I have navigated this wonderful life successfully by looking on the bright side of things. So, looking at the positives, forgetfulness sometimes can be a good thing.

“I didn’t remember we did that,” I say, as my friends remind me of one of our less than finer moments. Guilt spreads through my stomach, as I wish that memory had stayed tucked away. Then my memory kicks in, and I remind myself of the lesson learned from making that mistake. Remembering when I was in a comparable situation, I took a different route. Immediately, I felt better about myself.

I begin to tell a story to my friends. Half way through the story, I can tell they’ve already heard it. I forgot I had previously told the story. Now my mind reminds me! Where were you earlier? But my friends, being the kind ones, listen intensly, as if its the first time

My friends tell a story. I’ve heard that story several times. They forgot they told me that story numerous times before. My mind reminds me of a time in my younger life when I was rude and hurt someone’s feelings by berating them for repeating a story. Today I’m kind and listen to this story anyway.

Yes, forgetfulness is now my new friend. Someway, I’m determined to coexist and make the most of the fleeting years I have remaining.  But no matter how bad my memory may deteriorate, I’ll never forget this…

I sure love my old friends.

4 thoughts on “Never Forget This

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