Temporary Lapse

A decade ago, The Harvard University Gazette ran an article debunking the theory that aging adults lose oodles of brain cells daily (okay, so they didn't say "oodles," but it's such a fun word; they really should have). It was a fascinating piece that I mostly didn't read. William J. Cromie concludes the article with this cheery news: "You can feel good about the fact that you're not losing your mind at the rate of thousands of brain cells every day."

Well, I, for one, beg to differ.

My memory is shot, has positively gone-to-pieces, is now a muddled blur of a thing that I no longer trust. I am sure of this because any self-respecting neuron left in my brain would have reminded me of my affection for all-things-Pooh during my recent seven-day series on "What I Love."





And for certain, some kind soul wants to jump in at this point and console, "But look, you did remember. Just a bit belated is all." Which is sweet of you, thanks a bunch, but the thing is that it's not so much I remembered as it is that someone else brought it up.

But however it is we got here, I now recall that I'd like to share a bit of Pooh simpleness with you. So here we go.




Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.

"Pooh!" he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."


There now; I feel enormously better. And now that I've been reminded, I shan't forget again. Hopefully. Perhaps.

Hmmmmn.

I'm sorry; what were we talking about again?