Aging

Boxing Day is nearly over and I am just taking a few moments to read (fascinating book called Quiet)and listen to some early music (Ockenhiem).

This Christmas has been one I will never want to repeat, I love the company however I do not and cannot understand them. We share the language but I cannot understand them when they speak. We share a similar upbringing so we have some colloquiums in common. But this is not really about what we do or do not have in common but about what my brain will or will not process

I first realised this phenomenon some time ago when a woman with a high pitch voice spoke to me. I was in reception and so it was not unusual behaviour for people to come up and speak to me. However although I knew she was talking to me, I knew she was speaking words, I could not hear the individual words, I could not hear any of her words. And I just looked at her. Was I going deaf? Surely not, because then I would have similar experiences with others approaching reception - right? Wrong! Just woman with high squeaky voice as I called her thereafter. I have noticed this occurring with this high pitched "I'm really calling a dog" kind of voice and I cannot account for why others can hear them OK and I cannot..... but then the person I am spending the season with will put on this voice for some reason - maybe they feel it is endearing although I quickly tell them to stop at once as I cannot hear a word they are saying!

As they are elderly I do repeat this to them frequently. Is this the start of the memory going, failing and then gone? Or is this just the start of my worrying for nothing? I do hope it is the latter as the former would be rather too cruel to bear or to watch. Spending just the Christmas was difficult enough but if this was the start of something more serious it would mean each visit would become an even greater challenge for all concerned.

How does one age? I was travelling to Gatwick, as you do, and on the journey there an old man got on the public transport and I helped him up with his bag full of shopping. I told him he was early for all that. He disagreed and said if he left it till later the place would be heaving with people acting like savages. I gave a chuckle at this as I do tend to describe people as savages now. The way they treat others is appalling.  The old man turned to me and said if I knew getting old was gonna be like this I wouldn't have bothered. I giggled out loud of course (best way) but in looking at him I felt that he was not only joking with me. I said "Don't be silly!" and his response back to me was I don't want to be here. I kept on laughing and said something cute and fluffy and feminine as I felt that this called for girly pink fluff. But he was serious. He went onto explain that he was shopping for his father who is not able to get out much now that he's old. I swallowed down on the savagery of a country that allows for the concept of being elderly and yet caring for the elderly.

I'm spending Christmas with someone who cannot remember from moment but can remember from many moons ago. And here was a man with full memory and didn't care for what it recalled.
Aging.