You know when you've met someone a few times but when you see them again, you can't remember their name for a second? What does it mean when you can't remember the name of your daughter's bus driver that you have been calling by his first name every day all year? I am documenting this because it could be the first clue to my dementia. You will be able to pinpoint this date, the day I forgot the name of Ellyn's bus driver for an entire afternoon. Really. I can't wait for Jane to get home to clue me in, until then, complete frustration.
For almost three years I have been thinking how very sad it is that I hadn't continued to keep a journal of our family activities. No more deployment letters and emails to Mike, no more family blog to keep grandparents and aunts and uncles connected to our family. Nothing but printed off monthly calendars saved in a file somewhere. I guess our family blog died a slow death when we lived in Washington and we were seeing everyone all of the time. It just was not important to keep everyone informed. They were right there with us. I did not stop, in all the chaos, to think how very important the blog might be to me, or to my children. I have often thought of the cute pictures and quotes we had saved on our family blog. I thought of the interviews I did with the kiddos, and how grateful I was that, somewhere, on a dusty webpage, those beautiful faces, those funny antics, still existed. I have checked to make sure the blog still existed fr...
Comments