There’s a 6 in front… A Monologue
There’s a 6 in front of my age now … a six. How did that happen? Oh, I know the old cliche old age is a privilege denied to many. And heck I don’t feel old. Or do I? I don’t think old or so I reckon .. and then I lose the train of what I was saying. Here’s a list of words I forgot. I mean totally could not get into my brain and out of my mouth. Well, some of them were partly in my brain; I mean I could give you a clear description but the name of the thing? Look let me give you an example… someone posted a cute photo of a … a what the heck what is that thing, it’s as commonplace as you can get. It’s got a furry striped tail and its face looks like it wearing a robber’s mask… you know!
“A raccoon,” says my husband patiently, although he’s usually under strict instructions NOT to tell me. “I will get it” I yell at him. But I ask for clues or enquire about a word that’s similar. Anyway my list… I was telling you, it once took me half a day to recall the word piñata. Ok, it’s not quite so commonplace, but the colourful donkey shaped one I’d seen was a distant memory by the time I’d mentally retrieved its descriptor. Last week it was Starbucks, I could tell you all about the sign above the door just not the name on it. A family history of cognitive decline makes these glitches all the more frightening.
