The last thing I emptied
was a small portion of me
A memory
A word
A thought
That escaped
I can’t remember
Where I was going
What I was doing
Or thinking
Perhaps I was headed to the closet for a roll of toilet paper, but passed it by and grabbed a cup of tea instead
Perhaps I was supposed to be somewhere else
I can remember words like discombobulate and facetious, but blank-stare over the simple one that hangs on the tip of the tongue
I can’t recollect the lunch I ate two days ago, but the characters of a Star Trek series spill like jelly beans at Easter
My mind empties its importance and fills with trivial pursuits
A calendar of appointments is required
Sticky notes
A friend’s texted reminder
I am not senile, only a senior
And human
It’s natural, I’m told, with age
But not well-liked
Memory is fickle
A few brain cells leave
Yet, life and stuff continues
I remember my friends
Church on Sunday
Natasha on Thursday
Feeding the cats
Years of life with the parents
My own name
Most of it remains
Floating around
A jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces under the couch
Thinking, breathing, working
For now
One day the mind will completely empty
Thoughts and memories vacating
Sailing upward in spirit
Toward a heavenly space
He is waiting, smiling, with forgotten bits and pieces in his hand
And I am full, whole again
Hello my lovely peeps! As I am engaged in a women’s conference Saturday morning, replies to your comments may be late. Rest assured, though, I will chat with you as time permits and visit your blog at some point. Have a wonderful weekend!
Stream of Consciousness Saturday is the brainchild of author Linda G. Hill. Every Friday, Linda provides her followers with an inspiring blogger’s prompt. It can be a word or words and sometimes bonus points are involved (my favorite). Linda asks us to write without editing, other than correcting spelling errors.
Just go with the flow.
Like a babbling brook or rain drops. Click HERE if this type of writing floats your boat or helps with your decision-making. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “the last thing you emptied.” Think of the last thing you emptied or something you empty often and use it as your prompt any way you like. Have fun!
Mary J Melange 
Do I admit here that I’ve been known to open a cupboard door when I’m really looking for something in the refrigerator? Can I blame it on too much in the mental filing cabinet? The aging process is what it is I guess. 🙂
When I was younger, Judy…I put a frozen bag of vegetables in a kitchen junk drawer. Don’t remember what I may have put in the freezer. So, our brain can have a disconnect at any age. Then again, age has been a great excuse for when that does happen.
I’m not sure if I like your poem Mary … Strangely enough I resemble your emotions far too closely … this aging process is a lot harder than I thought it would be … aging gracefully seems to have lost its balance … 😉😍
Sorry Ivor, didn’t mean for this to be a bummer. I wrote this from personal experience and the knowledge that we can still age gracefully in our writing and relationships…even when we forget where we put our keys or some fancy word.
Oh … don’t worry Mary … my words weren’t meant to be serious,… a bit of tongue in cheek stuff .. . 😉🤗😍
Okay, Ivor. It’s fairly early here and I’ve only had one cup of tea. It’s the brain thing…not quite working yet! 😀
And it’s nearly midnight hear, and my words didn’t come out quite right 🤗😉
This is beautiful, Mary. It’s scary and real and haunting and yet hopeful. This whole memory thing is a tough nut to crack. It is frustrating and sometimes comical. At least you remember to feed the cats. I hope you have a wonderful weekend.
Thanks Dan! My friend and I tend to laugh about it when we are missing words or forgetful about something. There’s not much we can do about it except find humor in it and keep ourselves healthy. Happy Saturday!
When I was replying to you at my place, I couldn’t think of the word ‘belt’ as in where to put the groceries. It was only a few seconds, but it is a weird feeling. Take care.
I can relate to the memory becoming fickle
We all can, Sadje, although there are times when I may not want to admit it.
Yes, that’s true.
Your poem is easily relatable with a beautiful ending. Some memories will live forever, somewhere….. Meanwhile, a calendar of appointments, sticky notes, and reminders in my phone are definitely required.
Thank you, JoAnna! I’d like to think that end of life will mean being whole again in spirit, remembering all that I lived.
Sounds good to me!
Sometimes the minutia is more important than we realize.
Well, Pam, the minutia does help with final Jeopardy once in awhile. 😉
I can relate! With my sister taking care of her MIL with dementia, I’ve heard a weekly mantra of the progressive loss of bits and pieces of her memory. Soon she’ll be so bad that she’ll not remember her own son… it is a terrible state. I hope your poem is as bad as it gets for you!!
I hope so too. My mom had dementia and it was pretty awful at the end. I will do what I can to retain my memory and mind, but sometimes genetics decide this for us.
Beautiful and slightly wistful. One must face what is but always hope for the best. Never forget takes on a different meaning as you age.
I am good, Ally, as long as I never forget friends, family and chocolate!
Such a playful way to both acknowledge our brains change as we age and to ponder slightly the fear of dementia which you and I both know how it feels to admit its presence in our mom’s lives. I enjoyed your poem, Mary, nice job!
Thanks Shelley! At the.moment, I think if we can get past the snow and feel spring in April, that will help our state of mind for now.
You’re welcome! I’m counting on that to happen!! 😎😄