Memory Muscles
About a year ago, I was getting increasingly frustrated and concerned by my failing memory. I was constantly losing my keys, my phone, water bottle, etc. And when I'd go to look for something, I'd forget what I was looking for! Or I'd walk into a room and not remember why I'd walked in there. Several years before, I'd taken voice lessons and, struggle as I might, I could not memorize the songs I was learning. I would hit the same wall with pieces I was learning on piano. And with people, I'd forget names. With books, I'd get to the end and not remember what I'd read. Old age, I guess. But I wasn't happy because I'd once had an excellent memory. An uncannily excellent memory. My brain was a bank of phone numbers, birthdays, names, faces, directions, and more. When I was 14 and we were starting "A Tale of Two Cities" in English I, Mrs. Edwards told us never to forget that Gaspard was the name of the tall joker who wrote "Blood"