The wonderfully forgetful diary of life at almost 60
Growing older is filled with small quirks, quiet joys and a healthy dose of forgetfulness.
At nearly 60, I imagine my personal journal would resemble a slightly bewildered manual, filled with occasional moments of confusion rather than profound life reflections. One entry might read: "Woke up early. Not by choice. My body now operates on a cryptic internal alarm clock that ignores weekends." I can envision another entry: "Spent ten minutes searching for my phone.
It was in my hand. Decided not to inform anyone." This diary will accompany me to the grave, alongside the reason behind my earlier entrance into the kitchen.
I have formed a strong bond with lukewarm beverages, as I often find myself forgetting about them before they even get a chance to be enjoyed. Recently, I exclaimed "oof" while sitting down, seemingly unknowingly adopting this expression as part of my personality. There have been numerous instances where I've opened a cupboard, only to forget what I was looking for, standing there in contemplation, albeit with a touch of embarrassment.
It seems that I now have a designated "favourite burner" on the gas stove, a seemingly insignificant detail that marks a new chapter in my life. Two weeks ago, I received a message containing a new slang term, which required a quick Google search to decipher. Despite still lacking full understanding, I responded with a smiling emoji, effectively mastering the art of pretending.
Yesterday, I put on my reading glasses to search for my actual reading glasses, ultimately finding them and canceling plans with a friend, feeling an inexplicable sense of joy. Socializing remains enjoyable, but so does the comfort of not wearing shoes. Today, I realized I've become the person who adjusts the car's volume down to improve visibility, a quirk that defies scientific explanation.
My journal, as I approach the later stages of life, appears to be a collection of quieter entries, noting the people I love, significant moments, and small victories that often go unnoticed by others. Perhaps this is the essence of a journal at nearly 60 – not about remembering every detail, but rather about cherishing what truly matters, even if it remains somewhat elusive.
Written by urgent.news from The Citizen's reporting — not their text. Machine-written — may contain errors; check the original before relying on it.
