Jo Jo, Geography, and Dementia
Today’s report from the Caribbean: they have gone diving and I am home at the porch table. Ceiling fan whirring. Sea that non-Atlantic turquoise which is hard to believe in, rattling palm fronds. Yes, palm fronds. Yesterday, while I was up here writing, Jo Jo, a wild dolphin who is famous around here for being people friendly, paid the beach a visit. My friends leapt into the water and swam with him for an hour. Clearly I am missing out on life, or, at least on dolphins.
Before we left, I was on a long car drive with my mother, my son, and my two nieces and we played Geography, that game where you have to come up with a place that starts with the last letter of the place before you. So, if my mom said America, then I would have to say something that started with an A. ie. Africa. Anyways, here is what I noticed, my nieces have sharper minds than I do, like pencil points. My brain is sort of boggy feeling, sticky and slow, and this is a fairly new phenomenon. For most of my life, I have relied on my own pencil point memory without even knowing it, like breathing. If someone played a card, I remembered it. If someone lost a point, I certainly remembered that. Now, I have a hard time retrieving words and names. I can feel the word somewhere near, like someone standing behind you in the dark, but I can’t see it, can’t quite get at it. I tell myself that this is because I live partly in the 19th century, but I also think it is my age. Or oncoming dementia. I hope it is not dementia. Few things worry me more, although I do realize that it is fairly strange to worry about one’s brain while in paradise. For instance, the happy people on the beach — one person is lapping around in the water and a couple is playing frisbee — are probably not worrying about their brains.