Losing Nouns

The laundry is humming - a big load this time, since I was in California again last week. Those 5-day trips mean that Mom's laundry basket gets overfull.

While away, on a mountain near a lake, I came out of a cabin at 9:00 PM and heard a racket in the trash dumpster nearby. They heard me too, and out popped three sweet faces, furry little bandits with pointed ears and glowing eyes staring back at me, poised to flee if I stepped closer. I stayed their, and called to my friends to come out and see. Those faces are still in my mind - I didn't want the moment to end. They were so cute, young rascals out foraging.

Last night I recalled them, and thought I'd send an email to Julie about our "animal moment". But I could not remember the name of the animal! Omigod, I must be in Deep Age - I am losing my nouns (people sliding into dementia lose their ability to converse, primarily because they cannot recall their nouns - they speak in verbs and adjectives). I could only remember "waschbear", the German name for the animal, so called because they often wash their food before eating. Try as I might, the noun would not come. I made a note on a post-it: Julie, animals.

The noun arrived the next morning: raccoon. Of course. How could I forget that? Deep Age knocks. And no fair, I think, that I am doing my mother's laundry as I slide into my own old age. Will I have no time for myself?