Fun With Dementia

My blog has been depressing lately, though I didn't really mean it to be.  But my brother, Wade, just called to slap me upside the head and tell me to get my head outta the dirt and write something upbeat.

Some of you may not know my brother Wade, but when he slaps ya upside the head (always in a loving way, of course) you know your head's been slapped and you'd better straighten up and flight right.  (What the heck does that statement actually mean anyway?  I'm' not flying right now.  And truth be told, if anyone did ever actually physically slap me upside the head, he'd probably be the first one to knock that person right on down.)

So anyhoo, I decided to write about some of the good things that one with dementia experiences.  "Good things?" you ask.  There is a flip side to every ding dang coin and there are some entertaining things about losing ones memory.

I am so very grateful for the GPS in my car.  Of course, I've always been one to get lost, but just knowing the GPS will guide me home is a comfort.  Don't get me wrong, I can and do still get lost with GPS, but it allows me to see things I never would have seen otherwise.  Just yesterday, I saw an absolutely beautiful house on some odd street on the way home from where ever I was.  I can't remember.

Have a an argument with someone?  Not to worry.  Chances are, you won't remember it tomorrow.  All that is forgotten is forgiven.

Anything I've read in the past few years - in fact, even things I've written - are totally new to me.  I enjoy them just as much as I did the first time I read them.

Same with people.  I just loving making new friends, even friends I've known for a few years.  If I've known you for 55 to 10 years, chances are, I'll remember lots about you.  Possibly things you wish I'd forgotten.  But if you kicked me in the stomach 3 years ago, no worries.  As far as I know, unless it left a scar, it didn't happen.

More and more I say whatever the flip in on my mind at any given second.  Now, this can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on what time of day it is, and what crosses the fog in my brain.  SOMETIMES, I'm just very honest.  That of course can be either good or not so good.  But SOMETIMES utter bullshit comes right out of my mouth.  That's not good.   Ooops, sorry, supposed to be focusing on good stuff.

I relish scrumptious dinners that James has made for me a zillion times as if it were the first time I've tasted them.

People don't need to send new Christmas cards or birthday cards.  I can just bring out the ones from last year, thus preserving paper.

You can tell me the same joke  over and over.  I probably won't get it, but I'll laugh anyway.

It's a GREAT excuse for talking to trees and other plants and rocks and soil. . .  . . . things I've always done, but without an excuse.

Except for a few special circumstances, I'm fearless.  For example, I really think if I were in a store and some nut walked in with a gun and wanted to rob the place, I'd do something like laugh loudly, attempt a cartwheel, or try to kiss him.  Surely that would give the clerk enough time to push the button or whatever.  And if the crazy person shot me. . . . . ha. . . .. jokes on him.

And most of all, this fading has given me  a humongous appreciation of my brain.  Dang, it's been a good one.  I was so darn smart.  I'm sure I'm still smarter than the average bear, although IQ tests are seldom used now, especially with bears, but you get my drift.  And for that I am the most grateful a person can be.

So there you go, Brother Wade.  An upbeat blog about dementia.  Carry on,