Since I’ve joined the 21st century and disconnected my landline, finding my iPhone has been a challenge. In the past I could call my phone and when I heard the ringing, no matter what obscure place I left it in, I could find it. In the morning I am always surprised to find strange things in my bed besides my husband Neal. The remote, my kindle, or iPhone have all found their inappropriate place tucked into my sheets. Another infamous item that seems to dissolve from my memory is where I put my wool winter cap. When I get home, I rip it off my head and throw it in the closet without acknowledging its whereabouts. The closet is dark and between gloves and scarfs, my wool cap seems to vanish. But the worst thing about senior moments is the fear that it is early dementia. Getting angry at myself for misplacing things. Accepting that I shouldn’t rush, that I should put things in same place and don’t panic when I lose something is a goal I wish I could keep.  

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