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On Sunny Lane: I Forget

I did it again! I left my cell phone in a public restroom.

When I got my first smartphone, my daughter cautioned me, "Mom, people steal these!."

So, I make sure I have it with me when I'm out somewhere. I keep my eyes on it when it is not in my pocket. However, restrooms seem to be my downfall. I have left it there on multiple occasions.

The last time it happened was a couple of weeks ago. Sweetheart and I had gone on an overnight trip to celebrate our wedding anniversary and were eating breakfast at a busy diner in town.

It wasn't long before Nature called. And so, I answered.

About half an hour later, as we continued on our journey, I reached for my phone and it was not there. Instantly, I knew where I had left it.

I always put it on the toilet paper holder. Otherwise, it falls out of my pants pocket into the commode and I have to reach in for it. Yuk!

So, Sweetheart and I turned around and made a beeline for the diner. I searched out the restroom, but the cellphone was not there. I asked the waitress if it had been handed in and--lo and behold!--it was right there on the shelf for safekeeping.

On the multiple occasions when I have left my cell phone, or purse, or sunglasses, in a public place, someone has always found it and taken it to a place of safekeeping. Apparently, not everyone wants to steal stuff.

However, it bothers me that I forget things--not JUST things, but valuable things. It could be that, as a senior citizen, I have so much to remember.

It's not just things, either. I forget where I left things, what I was going to do, people's names, how to spell words I always knew how to spell.

But, most of all, I forget how old I am. Well, actually, I forget that I'm not young any more.

I have to remember that I can't run as fast as I used to--or jump as high, or how long I can be active before I keel over. Sometimes, I keep working, exercising or dancing until I'm exhausted. Then I need to spend the next day taking it easy.

I don't think I'm unique when it comes to slowing down. If I call a friend to chat, many times she will say she is taking it easy, because she overdid it the day before. Trouble is, we are still young on the inside and can't make our bodies keep up with our spirits.

The other day, I stopped into the butcher shop in the community where I used to live. The owner makes the best bacon I have eaten, so I always stop and get some if I'm in the neighborhood.

When Dave saw me, he came out of the butcher area, where he was cutting up meat, to the counter, to say hello. He was walking with a stoop and shuffled a bit, but he had a smile on his face.

He said he had seen my stories in the newspaper and said, “I see you're still writing”.

“Yes,” I said. “I can't stop”.

“I can't either," he said. “What would I do?”

‘What does anybody do? You keep on keeping on, unless you're someone who has given up and become a couch potato, who sits and watches (un)reality shows on television.

For me, that ain't happening.


Dorothy has recently published a book, “Miles and Miracles”, and it can be purchased on Amazon and Kindle, and is now available by contacting Dorothy via email at

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