Her legacy haunts me. Like today, for example, when I had brunch with Ann, but lost my parking ticket. Not that it mattered. I told the man in the booth, "I just had breakfast in the restaurant . . ." and he cheerfully waved me on.
I drove to University Hospital to visit a friend, only I couldn't find the hospital. I found the Huntsman Center. I found Primary Children's Hospital. I found Red Butte Gardens. I drove in circles, up and down the hill, embarrassed, even though I was alone. And then I was exhausted and went home. He will be in the hospital all week. I'll get Tom to go with me.
I forgot to bring a salad to someone's house. Then I made a salad on another occasion when I had asked someone else to bring it. It's either no salad or two salads.
I've replaced my driver's license three times in the last year.
I lost Ruby Mae's smocked dress.
It could mean I'm recording my own descent. Or it could mean I'm as ditzy as I've always been. Or it could be a whisper of panic in the middle of the day. Nothing new there.
Here's the good news: Netflix is running THE JEWEL IN THE CROWN, which is the best British series ever made. Daphne Manners, guileless and awkwardly beautiful, is one of the finest protagonists ever imagined. It all takes place in India beginning in 1942. You must see it. You must!
There's nothing like it to forget that you are forgetting.