Moments and Memories

"We do not remember days, we remember moments." ---Cesare Pavese 

BRENDA KELLEY KIM 

He's right. Back in November, I hit a milestone birthday; I turned sixty years old. I might have already written about this, but I don't remember. I've discovered recently that my memory stinks, and while it might be age-related, it doesn't matter why I forget things almost instantly. There are dozens of reasons why mild memory loss shows up, so why does it always seem to come back to age? 

We assume that once we hit a certain age, we could become doddering fools who forget to turn the stove off and burn the house down. I used to write science articles about neurology and brain science, but when it comes to my own mind, I honestly have no idea. Memory issues come and go, but I'm finding that it doesn't matter what the specifics are; what matters is what we do to cope with it. When I started noticing these issues, I did think it might be age because the other reasons, like a brain tumor or early onset dementia, were too scary to think about. 

I spent a lot of time being bummed out that aging was impacting my life this way, but now I realize that getting older is something my parents never got to do. I'm ten years older now than they were when I lost them, so I don't mind the age anymore. Aging is something that millions of people experience. One person might be all kale and kombucha to ward off the downside, and another might think, "Who cares?" 

I don't know where I fall on this spectrum. Yes, turning sixty was a big deal; growing up, I felt like someone who was sixty was definitely old. Now that I'm there? I don't feel old, but my knees have aged in dog years, my face has the footprints of a thousand crows, and I slap color on my head to ward off the grey. The memory issues, though? Nothing makes you feel older than when a kid says, "Ya, Mom, you told me that already." 

I may occasionally forget an appointment or a conference call, but there are apps to help me with that. Sometimes I even go old school (haha, see what I did there?) and put up brightly colored sticky notes on my mirror to remind me of the essential tasks on my calendar app. The days might get confusing, but I remember so many important moments. 

I remember the day the proof copy of my book came in the mail, and I nearly ran over a neighbor on her walk because I was waving it around. 

I remember road trips with my kids, where we listened to audiobooks and ate bad rest-stop food. 

I remember laughing like fools on a staycation weekend in Boston with my girlfriends, but I've forgotten what was so funny. 

I remember sitting in the kitchen at a friend's home, learning how to knit, and feeling like a rockstar when I finished a scarf with more than a few dropped stitches. 

I remember helping someone with a Christmas project, wrapping hundreds of gifts, and sticking name tags on them, hoping I got the correct tags on the right gifts. 

I remember getting to a track meet just in time to see my daughter run the last race of her high school career; two days later, schools were closed, sports were canceled, and the world seemed to shut down. 

For now, the sticky notes and apps will help me organize work and other tasks, but I refuse to simply accept that forgetting a few things means I'm old and decrepit. It just means I'm focusing more on moments and less on due dates and projects. A missed appointment can be rescheduled, but remembering the best bits and pieces of a life well-lived is precious.

Looking Forward: New Voices New Words

"For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice." — T.S. Eliot.

 

A few days ago, I saw one of my favorite comedians, Juston McKinney. He does a year-in-review show, and it was hilarious. At this time of year, everyone is thinking about what the past 12 months brought us and wondering how the next year will unfold. I thought about writing one of those updates like some of my friends put in their Christmas cards, but honestly, it didn't seem like I'd accomplished much this year. Stayed employed, check. Stayed healthy, check. I took a lovely vacation and spent some time with friends, but I can't imagine anyone is interested in a long update about my family, the dog, and what I thought about the food on the Queen Mary 2.

 

I got to thinking, though, since I don't do Christmas cards if someone looked at my social media posts for the year, what would they think? It's not that I care much about what people think, but I probably should be aware of what I put out in the world to avoid giving the wrong impression. Based on some posts from last year on my Facebook, this is probably what people think.

 

1.   I'm a failed arsonist. Not once have I started a fire on purpose, like in the fireplace or outside around a firepit. However, several minor fire-adjacent incidents have occurred at my house and not just during this year. There seems to be a pattern involving cooking and things catching fire, but this year, I outdid myself, setting fire to some noodles while they were in a pot of boiling water.

Noodles in water can catch fire

The fire department is very gracious when a burner won't shut off

2.   I might be a cat. No, not because I wear furry clothes and drink milk from a saucer, but because I seem to have nine lives. I've already beaten cancer, but in 2024, I was walking along a flat, well-lit area and tripped over nothing but air. But wait, there's more; throughout the year, I burned myself, got hit in the eye with a badminton bird, and nearly sliced off a finger, which needed four stitches. A horde of rogue wasps built a nest in my shed and tried to kill me, and I tripped over the dog and bashed my elbow so hard I saw stars. Oh, and I fell off a sailboat. To be fair, though, I was also in a car accident that could have been bad, but I didn't get hurt.

Four stitches. 

3.   I'm an oversharer. This is true: guilty as charged. I tend to use social media as a journal of sorts so I can look back at the mundane and the milestones. Perhaps it's a self-esteem issue, but I did post pictures and updates every time I cleaned a closet or organized a cabinet. None of this was newsworthy, but did that stop me? No. It's an accountability thing— if I need motivation, just looking back at the posts convinces me that I can do it. I am, however, very proud of the fact that I refrained from sharing some other moments that didn't show the best side of me. That's a truism of social media. No one posts their blooper reel; they post their highlight reel.

That time a fashion blogger made me stabby so I lit it up in the Globe

 

I don't make formal resolutions, but rather, I make intentions. I decide on a few very vague concepts that I want to take into the new year, and then I try to apply them when and where I can. This year, I want to be more about gratitude and less about ranting like a cranky squirrel. At this time next year, maybe my social media year in review will include fewer accidents, small fires, and overshares.

 

A new year does require different words than the ones we've already said, and different voices can make a conversation better, so Happy New Year to all. To the year past, the year ahead, and all the best of times, let's raise a glass to hanging in there for another trip around the sun.