The Older I Get, The More I Forget

The older I get the more I forget – and I’m only 43.  There will always be those wonderful memories that I will cherish and some terrible ones that I cannot get out of my head.  I think my 83-year-old father has a better memory than me.  I don’t know if it’s because I have too much on my mind, my brains are fried for various reasons or I’m having some kind of memory loss that’s dicking with me.

So I’ve compiled a list of memories that I hope my cerebrum retains for now and in the future, because I would hate to forget the good ones.

I remember…

  • My nanoo’s voice – broken English and so sweet.
  • My grandma’s Sunday gravy (the red stuff) – the BEST ever!
  • My poppy killing my pet rabbits and eating them – and gram tried to get me to eat them too.  She said it was chicken.  Luckily I was too smart to fall for it.
  • My daddy throwing me up high in our pool – that was the best ride.
  • Bubbles Beauty Cosmetics – my invented company.  Aunt Mimi and I played business woman – I always liked to be the boss.
  • My 5th grade bully – Karen S.  Angel and Sally C. threatened to beat her up so she stopped.
  • My first dog – Nippynop.  He went to the dog farm.
  • My first pair of 1970’s platforms – red bandana ones!
  • United Skates of America – some of the best times.
  • My year abroad in Paris – a must do for all.
  • Watching François Mitterrand’s funeral procession in Paris.
  • Working in New York City – SoHo was my fave.  Great lunches at The Ear Inn.
  • My mom and I following Johnny Maestro all over and hanging backstage with the band.
  • Hanging out at Ashley’s, Joey’s, Cryan’s and Ringside.
  • My wedding night – not good.  The A word was discussed.
  • Staying with my dog when we had to put her to sleep – she fell over lifeless in my arms.  I’m crying as I type.
  • My first teaching job – I loved working at DHS.
  • My cousins Rosie, Joe and Joan who died way too young.
  • My first cat Bailey.  Crazy, sinister and in-tune with me.
  • Monmouth County Jail – some of the worst 24 hours of my life.
  • Watching my mom die – glad I was there with her but I’ll never lose the memory.

So there you have it.  The good and the bad, the happy and the sad.  Maybe you have a similar memory or maybe they’re just mine.

Our memories of the past become more and more important as we age.  We remember all the people we lost over the years and realize that there are more of us in the ground than on this earth and it was definitely more fun with them all here.


One response to “The Older I Get, The More I Forget

  1. Pingback: My Life As A Jersey Girl | Culturechoc2010's Blog

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