I talk openly about being in a 12 Step Program, two to be exact. The rule is, anonymity for others, but you can come clean as long as you keep it about yourself.
To be open and honest, candor flowing, is my greatest goal, thinking of enrolling in the John Waters’s Online Course..Spilling Your Guts in 4 Easy Lessons…All Major Credit Cards Accepted.
That all said.
When those winds come, how do we proceed? I’ve had challenges my whole life and maybe youth made them easier to conquer, because I feel as if I’m losing ground, not to mention my wallet that I swear, plays Hide and Seek at least once a day.
My forgetfulness concerns me, not to mention a chronic case of distraction. Saturday after hysterically retracing my steps, located my Debit Card at Barnes and Noble that a woman apparently behind me in line, rescued, unable to catch up with me since I tend to gallop like a Greyhound late for a race.
It scares the wits out of me, this early dementia? Oh we all do it, says my friend Ed.
But do we?
He also said, a doctor told him, if you’re worrying about dementia, you couldn’t possibly have it. If I knew where that doctor was, I’d send a bouquet.
My mother, who in one way or another inhabits my being, her strength I’ve mysteriously inherited, gets me out of bed every day regardless. Just now while having a substantial sob still made coffee after taking my vitamins, making the bed and donning my running clothes.
Right foot left foot, chants in my head like an Olympic Mantra.
When Bette Davis said, old age ain’t for sissies, All About Eve wasn’t just whistlin’ Dixie, Lincoln’s favorite tune, by the way.
I guess if I can still remember Abe whistling, I must have at least one marble left.
That all said….
where the hell are my keys?
Better check the fridge.