The Forgetful Frog #24: Crooked Lines

The Forgetful Frog
By The Forgetful Frog August 13, 2016 08:50


By The Forgetful Frog

Crooked lines.

Thank you for helping me, and for your endless patience. This is what I say to my husband, at least once every day, usually more often. I’m sorry I can be so moody, and difficult to live with. I do think I’m getting better, it’s just not a straight line.

We know that. My husband reassures me.

However, back to crooked lines. Today, I understood for the first time that the lines connecting points of accomplishment are important in their own right. It matters not a bit whether they are straight or crooked. It only matters that they connect points.

The accomplishments might be physical. Or, they might be new areas or levels of understanding. The very thought process that brought me to this understanding has been, indeed, very multi-directional. Up and down, forward and back.

Could you come upstairs, I ask my husband on the phone, through tears. Of course, he says, what’s wrong? I don’t know, I reply, I just need you.

By the time he climbs the stairs and reaches my room, I have gotten a hold of myself. My tears are still streaming, but the fear has subsided. Everything’s OK, he assures me. I always believe him, and it’s always a comfort. He gives me a hug, and brings me a glass of blueberry-flavored iced tea. He returns to his studio, and I am none the worse for wear.

These episodes occur perhaps once a week. Of course, they never happened before my brain damage. I have no idea which corner of my brain was oxygen-deprived, in order to create this phenomenon. It’s disconcerting, but I am beginning to accept it.

Indeed, I have accepted many aspects of my new, brain-damaged life. Pretty much everything is more difficult, and takes longer, than it used to. It has been enough time of recovery, that I am beginning to adjust to the slower pace. And the much lower level of productivity.

At the risk of being what some might call Pollyanna-ish, I feel I must say, once again, that my rediscovering my sister almost makes up for the difficulties. I think that rarely an hour passes when I do not smile and recall that I have her back.

I still can’t explain why I reached out to her, as a result of my brain damage. But maybe the universe knows what it’s doing, after all. Every day, I must review in my mind that our separation—which lasted decades—was unavoidable for me. I am very regretful to have missed all those years, but even more overjoyed to have her back.

I had pasta for dinner and chocolate mousse for dessert. I didn’t finish my mousse.

That’s right! My husband is always so happy and encouraging when I remember things. And also, amazed when I do not finish my dessert!

Yesterday, we drove to San Francisco to see my nephew, Sam, sing in a choir at a church. The activity was exhausting for me, almost to my very limit. And, this morning, my body is still very tired. But my spirit is rejuvenated and bubbly.

The music was beautiful, but the best part, by far, was seeing Sam. What an impressive and dear young man my sister’s son is! Once again, I feel the pangs of regret, for having missed his growing up years. But I also feel the immense joy of having him in my life now.

frog staircaseFroggy loves to eat pizza
On his diet, he admits that he cheats a
Bit around cheese,
It’s just such a tease,
In Italy, they tell you it beats a

Salad or a big plate of pasta.
It’s long ago, he admits, since he lost a
Taste for the healthy,
Since becoming wealthy,
And forgetting to cook like a Rasta.

He likes pepperoni the best.
With this kind he’s become obsessed.
It’s never too spicy,
It’s always so nice, he
Forgets to give it a rest.

He’ll meet you any day at Round Table,
Get your share of the pie, if you’re able.
He means to be sharing,
And never uncaring,
Like Rhett Butler, when played by Clark Gable.

Froggy likes Gone with the Wind,
But he thinks the main characters sinned.
Another day it may be,
But tomorrow you’ll see,
It never pays to be very thin-skinned.

Yes, Scarlet’s in love, to be sure.
But Rhett’s intentions are not very pure.
Never sharing his pizza,
He’s lucky he meets a
Girl for whom he has allure.

To be continued…

forgetful-frog-image3-300x2301-300x230-132Rose Oaks is a foothills resident in her 50s who writes with the help of a computer tablet and speech-recognition software. She hopes that her notes on coping with disability will help others facing difficult challenges know they are not alone. Read more Forgetful Frog blog posts at this link: Readers’ Journal.
The Forgetful Frog
By The Forgetful Frog August 13, 2016 08:50
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