Help! I've Lost my Hippocampus!

Ok, so I'm 58--not exactly petrified wood but not quite primetime, either.

Three years ago I received a chirpy wakeup call when I was handed a brochure at a clothing store with the oh-so-exciting news that every Tuesday I would be able to save 4% on picture frames. "Senior Tuesday!" sang the happy young clerk.

I restrained myself from doing backflips across the parking lot. Not good on the wrists, you know.

I haven't taken advantage of Senior Tuesday yet because...well, (1) I don't feel like a real senior unless you count my knees cracking into action the moment I step out of bed, or (2) the fact that my arm is not long enough to read the tiny print on my Tylenol bottle anymore, or (3) waitresses have started calling me "Sweetie" and smiling the way I used to smile at old ladies when I was in my 20s.

Life is an adventure on the far side of fifty.

Two elderly gentlemen, Jack and Harry, were chatting over coffee one morning.

Jack: "Me and the Mrs. went to a good restaurant last night."

Harry: "What was it called"

Jack was clearly struggling to recall the name. "What's the name of that flower that women like to get"

"Carnation," says Harry.

"No. It's usually red with big petals"

"Poppy?"

"No. It has a thorny stem," insists Jack.

Harry's face lights up. "Do you mean a rose?"

"That's it! A rose!"

Jack picks up his cell phone and phones his wife, Rose.
"Hey hon, what was the name of that restaurant we went to last night?"

I'm working at staving off the trainload of dementia that everyone seems to expect of seniors, starting by an all-out effort to memorize new names. Take the lady with the big hoop earrings, for example. When I first met Natalie, I didn't have any other acquaintances by that name, so I figured it'd be a cinch. I'd run into her often at church, the grocery store or post office, but that didn't help. After a few months, I was too embarrassed to admit that her name had slipped through my gray matter like water through a pasta strainer.

I did what any rational person would do; I faked it for the first year. Then I thought, If visual exercises used to help me memorize history facts for my fourth-grade tests, that might be an effective way to remember names.

So I came up with a lively visual to help me connect her name to her face. One thing I'd noticed is that Natalie never left the house without wearing big gold hoop earrings. So I pictured a gnat flying back and forth through those big hoops, like a circus performer.

It worked!

The next time I ran into Natalie, I didn't even hesitate. "Hi, Gnatalie," I said, feeling smug about my tricky little secret.