My husband and I gave each other special gifts for Valentine’s Day. It was acceptance of one another’s senior moments.
It started last week when I was helping my friend at her store. I was going to buy some olive oil and then pick up her lunch at K’s. There had been a large snow, so I had changed out of my comfy crocs and into boots and had on my winter coat. I drove to the block, parked in the deep slush, and made my way into the olive oil store. After putting the purchase in my purse, I grabbed my change (bills and coins) and sloshed down the block to K’s.
At K’s, I pulled out my wallet to put the money away. My friend’s order was ready, so I also pulled out her money from my coat pocket, paid, got a receipt, put the change in my pocket and grabbed up the bag, my purse, and napkins and headed back to my car to return to the store.
Once there, I set the bag of food on the counter, shed my coat, and changed my boots for crocs. I was planning to get a coffee next door and just as I asked my friend if she also wanted one, a customer came to the counter. I rang his purchase up for him and then opened my purse to get my wallet out for coffee.
No wallet. I literally ran out of the store, down the block to K’s, sans coat or boots. One of the clerks helped me search, even going out into the snow packed parking areas to check there, but in vain. I ran back to the store, chilled and with wet feet, and grabbed my car keys. I drove to the bank and in the parking lot, called my husband to find out the number of our credit card to cancel it. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that, without an ID, but I had to try. I also called my friend at the store to tell her where I was.
That’s when she said, “Is your wallet red? Because that’s here on my counter.” I was relieved, of course, and called my husband back to cancel the panic and ask him if I should be tested for insanity.
He was quite nice about it.
As it turns out, it was a good thing he was nice. About a week later, he called me while I was out running errands to tell me to buy AAA batteries for our water pik. I insisted that we didn’t need those, because I’d already purchased AA batteries for it. I explained that I had taken the dead batteries out and had gotten replacements. He argued that he was looking right at the thing and that we needed “the smaller ones.”
I was just about to grab a pack of batteries, when I received his text, “You were right. The batteries are AA. Duh.”
I am grateful I’m not the only one who occasionally has a senior moment.
Sue is a retired public servant who volunteers at the Hospice store (For All Seasons) in Troy and teaches part-time at Urbana University. She keeps busy taking care of husband, house, and pets. She and her husband have an adult son who lives in Troy.