Is Elderly Forgetfulness Contagious?

Ack! My memory is failing me! (As evidenced by the total neglect of the blog. Sorry about you.) I've been spending a few hours a week with sweet Syl who is 90 and her memory is not what it once was. Some refer to it as dementia, but 1) she has no official diagnosis and 2) my 11-year-old self might have used the word "demented" to refer to dumb boys one too many times for me to feel ok about referring to a sweet old lady with the word. Also, I'm not going down that lane because it might get me started on the sad state of affairs with the elderly and the disrespect with which our culture treats them and that's a tirade I'm not prepared to undertake at this moment.

Back to me and my memory. Today alone I have forgotten to put on socks, forgotten to make my bed (I had been so good about it too), forgotten where my keys were (in my pocket), searched high and low and underneath all objects for said keys (did I mention? Pocket. Yep.), forgotten the time to pick up my eldest (11:38 on minimum days. Yes 11:38. Really, help a girl out couldyaplease?).

Then as I sat down to hammer out an article or two, I thought to myself, "A cup of coffee sounds delightful. Too bad the coffee is finished. Should I make a pot just for myself? Are there health risks for consuming copious amounts of caffeine? Does my poor family want to deal with the ramifications of me on an entire pot of coffee? No? Okay then."

Eldest says to me, "Mom, could I have hot chocolate?" and as I had just failed miserably at picking him up on time, his wish was (just for that moment. I'm over it) my command. I poured the water into a measuring cup, opened the microwave and Lo and Behold: My cup of coffee that I put in the microwave and reheated before I took Eldest to school.

It was delightful, indeed. Kind of like a little surprise I left for me. I think I'll go out of my everlovin' mind before school's out.