Judy's Memory Problems

For as long as I can remember (pun intended), I have had memory problems. Mama used to whip me when I was little, because I would forget things. Auntie Della once asked me how I could be an Executive Secretary with the memory I had. I told her because I wrote everything down and looked over my notes all of the time. I told my kids to not forget that I have this condition and not think I have alzheimers and stick me away some place when I get old. :0)

Seriously, I've never understood why I could remember VIVIDLY things that happend to me when I was around two or three years old and yet can't remember five minutes ago. I can only been able to assume I had brain damage of some sort. After much thought regarding this problem, I have come up with two possibilities.

• HARD BIRTHING

My mother was 5'2" tall with a small pelvic region (runs in our line). It was very difficult for her. She almost couldn't get me out. When I did finally emerge, I had a big "goose egg" on top of my head, where it had been squeezed in the birthing canal.

It didn't take very long for the deformity to go away; but could unseen damage have occurred?

• ELECTROCUTION

Just recently, however, I have begun to consider what happened to me as a pre-schooler as the possible souce of injury. It seems that's when my problems began.

There was a rock building next door on a zero lot line that served as a cultic church. There was a little room jutting out at the front that served as an office. When "Old Man Walker" (the preacher) wired it for electricity, he did something wrong. He didn't ground it right or something, because the electricity flowed through a wrought iron fencing unit that ran from the little office out to the front of our regular wire fence.

I was a only child and had no playmates, so I was lonely. One day some kids were walking down the street. I watched them. When they got past our place, I grabbed hold of the wrought iron fencing to watch them as long as I could. When ... BLAM! I was knocked backwards on my back with a HARD JOLT, totally unconscious. I remember it and the initial surprise I felt. I remember flying backwards and hitting the ground. I don't remember coming to.

Mama said I hit my head on a brick was the reason I went out. I never believed that. I always believed it was the power of the electricity that did it. And now I suspect it is the culprit behind my very inconvenient condition.

Now that I am old, my memory is even worse. I can't remember many events of the past. I think the reason for that is because too many of those memories are too painful to bear. My short-term memory is probably the same. I still forget stuff on the stove and burn it up. Vincent said one day I'm going to burn the place down. I sure hope not.

The moral of this story is that a good memory is not necessarily an absolute survival tool.

• Look at George Robinson. His memory included the most infinite details. He PRIDED himself on it and would often rub it into others that their memories weren't as good as his. Didn't do him any good. He's dead, barely past his 50's.

• Then look at me. I have managed to survive over 65 years like this. Can't remember shiite - yet I ayn't dead yet. :0)

TO MY KIDS: As I write this, the following song lyrics keep going through my mind ...

REMEMBER ME
I'M THE ONE WHO LOVES YOU