Seniority or Senility

 Seniority or Senility

To some who are asking the question of seniority or senility is like asking “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” To some people seniority and senility almost mean the same thing. It isn’t so, but some days one is the shadow of the other and could be easily mistaken for the other. When a person gets up and goes into another room when the destination is only a few feet away and the person forgets what they went into another room to get, it becomes irritating, frustrating, and worrisome. The only thing worse is when the forgetfulness becomes a habit.

My most recent event is just a little different, but it ran in a similar vein. I was ensconsed in my recliner downstairs when my phone reminded me that I had a dental appointment. I had to change out of my comfy pajama bottoms and sweatshirt. My jeans and dress shirt were upstairs, so I hoisted myself from my recliner and hurried up the steps. I had to empty my pockets from my slacks and transfer the contents of my pockets into my jeans and don a clean shirt. I gathered my wallet, keys, coins and checkbook tucking them into my jeans pockets.

Now comes my confusion. I reached for my cell phone. I usually toss it on my bed while changing my pants. I wanted to slide it into my shirt pocket and I couldn’t find it. I retraced my steps in all of the rooms upstairs then went back down stairs and hunted through all the rooms: living room, kitchen, and dining room. I had no luck. I knew that it was no use to dial my cell from the house phone. I always put my cell phone on vibrate when I am in church. I had my cell phone on vibrate only.

Thhe sad thing was that I remembered I had it in my hand as I went upstairs, so I walked back upstairs to continue the search. I was still having no luck and began asking God to help me. I ddn’t want to leave the house without my phone. I was on the verge of leaving home without my lifeline when I felt a sneeze coming on. I reached into my back pocket and there that little rascal was hiding with my handkerchief. I’d slipped it into my jeans without remembering. It was in my pants pocket and not in my shirt pocket where I usually keep it.

I guess that is better than putting something in away for “safe” keeping and then being unable to remember where that safe place is.