Senior Moment? or...I Forget What I Was Going to Say....

I think I can safely say most of my readers are Lady Boomers, women of the Baby Boomer generation. Therefore, I think you have heard of or will recognize the term “Senior Moment”, the definition of which is a temporary mental lapse -humorously attributed to the gradual loss of one's mental faculties as one grows older. (At least we hope and pray these are temporary lapses) My friend Suzi refers to her such lapses as “Blond moments” (Although how, at our age, can we assume we still have any authentic blond hair left). Regardless of the label, I had one such lapse recently as I excitedly prepared to play golf with friends. “Prepare” is the operative word here. There are the golf clothes, golf shoes, golf socks, and golf hat to don. Do I have enough balls and tees in my bag? Since golfing takes an inordinate amount of the day, I had to make sure the dogs were walked so they did not leave unappreciated deposits in the house in my absence.   Of course that meant taking the poop bags to the garbage after the walk. So, while I was hanging out by the garbage in the garage I decided, for efficiency’s sake, I would move my clubs into the ally outside my garage for easy pick up. My car was parked in front of our townhouse. Between the times I re-entered my house and hopped in my car, I, being the Lady Boomer multi-tasker I am, decided to run the dishwasher and answer a text. Wait for it….here it comes…senior moment time. I lock up, get in my car and proceed to drive to the golf course. Music playing, windows open to a beautiful morning, I pull into the parking lot to behold my friend removing her clubs from her trunk. ##%t! I forgot my clubs!!!Practically performing a wheelie in the parking lot, I dash back home, fearing I’ll be late for our designated tee time. Pulling into the ally behind my garage, I feel my stomach clench, failing to see my golf clubs.   They have disappeared. Maybe they are still in the garage? No…. Behind my gate? No…. Did someone steal them?!   Men from a lawn service were mowing the median behind my home. I could not imagine (1) why in the world they would want a woman’s golf clubs, and (2) why they would still be hanging around if they had taken them. “A woman in a red car picked them up” one of the gentlemen told me” pointing to a townhouse two doors down. I ran over and knocked but no one answered. I kind of felt like I had fallen through Alice’s rabbit hole, the whole experience just kept getting weirder. Meanwhile, our tee time was getting closer so I headed back to share clubs with my friends.Sure enough, my neighbor, thinking she was doing a good deed, had rescued my clubs, sticking them in her garage.Dementia and/or Alzheimer’s certainly is a fear as we age. I’ve read, however, that what people experience as a memory problem is often a not paying attention problem. I really do believe my experience that morning was a case of not paying attention, or rather paying attention to too many things. I keep promising myself I’m going to be more mindful of the moment…maybe this experience will be the impetus to really do so….unless I forget.