I have taken a break following the tenth anniversary of my late wife’s lateness. A lot has been going on, a circus of an election which has yet to end, a continuing pandemic, and all the little slings and arrows of everyday life abridged.
I may have waited too long, the symphony of articles in my head will more than likely fade before they are written, although it is also likely that the exercise of writing will spawn new articles.
The event which has awakened me is the death of Alex Trebek.
Jeopardy was a big chunk of my life. Emma and I would watch it every night. When I was mid relapse , on my way to the hospital, I was shouting out the questions to the television in the room. When Alex was diagnosed with Pancreatic cancer my heart sunk. I was afraid of the reminders of Emma in the hospital. What I actually had reminders of was her spirit, the way she never showed weakness.
I’ve spent more of the last few months thinking about Emma than normal, and chalked it up to the tenth anniversary of her death initially; much of it came from Alex Trebek. `
I remember when she was going for walks every morning before sunrise, checking recycle bins for Coca-cola bottles with “Coke points” still valid. I remember after surgery when we went out for Tasty Cake cherry pies and ice cream in the midst of a snow storm, her first trip out, and her looking at me saying “I’m oot and aboot!” But now I’ve had several pictures of her last words, “I can’t fight anymore.”
My memory is well scrambled. For me, memories used to be a holographic experience. I was in the place, feeling the weather, smelling the scents of the moment. My short term, and an increasing amount of my long term memory, have become lists, I know things happened but can’t relive them. I can’t recall the minutiae of the event; as if the DVDs of memory have been replaced with books.
I will miss Alex Trebek, no one can replace him. I will be reminded as long as Jeopardy is on the air.
So about that election. It’s over. The final totals are not due yet, but the margins exceed the uncounted votes so we can accept a winner. Some folks cannot be gracious in defeat, tell me how graciously either party reacted to the 2016 results (or 2000, nothing worse than a bunch of sore winners). I’ve already seen people quoting false propaganda about previous elections, such as “No republican has won the popular vote for thirty years.” George Bush had almost the same majority as Biden has this year in 2004.
I’m sure I’ll be writing about the continuing partisanship, failures always make good subjects. Too many people not satisfied with victory, they want revenge. I remember after Clinton left the White House, the childish pranks that vandalized the White House. I remember a guy taking credit for it at the yacht club and being thrown out by the (democrat) commodore. Decent people are distributed as evenly as angry people. It has no party affiliation.
I would like to devote a few articles to my failing memory, the way it changes. It’s a fascinating subject to me, it appears the way my memory functions is a bit different than other people. I know that my “methods” can be taught, I give myself a grade of 70% in teaching others how to do it; and I know by my own failing memory that not everyone can do it my way. I can’t anymore.
There will of course be my tangential musings, my imagination has struggled to survive, and still gives me glimpses of alternative worlds, where the world is ever so slightly different. The effect of small changes.
Welcome newcomers and welcome back to those of you who have been following these last seven years.