Losing My Marbles

I knew the day would come.  I just didn’t know it would be this soon.

Or that it would hit me with both barrels. 

The day I’m referring to is the day I realized I was starting to lose my marbles. 

Allow me to give you both barrels so you can judge for yourself.

Barrel One:  I spent the better part of 10 minutes looking around the house for the keys to my car.  I finally found them…snugly in the palm of my right hand where they had been for the entire time I spent looking for them.  While only the tip of the iceberg, there have been enough incidents such as this one that have in no uncertain terms highlighted the fact that I’m losing it, whatever ‘it’ may be…or more accurately, used to be.    

Barrel Two:  My grandson has discovered my marble collection in the two-gallon glass aquarium in the guest bedroom.  He considers the marbles to be his, seeing as he occasionally sleeps in the guest bedroom, has some of his clothes in the dresser in the guest bedroom and the majority of his toy dinosaurs reside in the guest bedroom.  Ergo, the marbles are his. 

Back to Barrel One: I’ve sensed this coming for the past several years; this slow-but-ever-so-sure deterioration of what used to be a pretty keen mind.  It seemed like only yesterday I was able to tell whether or not I had a set of keys in my hand.  Boy has that ship sailed.   Now I can’t remember names, have trouble driving after dark and it takes me 10 minutes longer than it used to getting ready for work in the morning.   

Back to Barrel Two: I’ve taught Krischan how to play marbles…the old fashioned way.  You may remember: Pick a shooter (preferably one of the larger marbles) for yourself, put the rest of the marbles inside of an imaginary circle (a better option is to play in the dirt and draw a circle in the dirt with a stick) and take turns shooting at the marbles by flicking your shooter with your thumb and claiming any marbles that are ‘hit.’  Is Krischan any good?  Let’s just say where there’s a will there’s a way: If he decides he wants to hit a particular marble, one way or another it’s going to happen.  For example he may call for a ‘do-over’ if one of his flicks doesn’t hit a marble, drop his shooter directly on top of his intended target or simply tell me he hit a particular marble when the truth of the matter is he missed it by at least a foot or more.  

My marble collection has been with me for many, many years. To say that it is one of my pride and joys would not be far from the truth.  In that aquarium are marbles that once upon a time belonged to Pappy, my mother’s father; Robert and Don, my wife’s two older brothers; and a lot of my friends because I won them playing ‘keepsies’ when I was Krischan’s age.

I had names for some of the marbles: Steelies (made completely of steel), puries (you can see completely through them), boulders (the oversized ones that Krischan likes to shoot with), cat eyes (if you saw one you’d know why) and some really old marbles made of wood I never knew what to call.

I guess you could say my marble collection is very near and dear to me.  They represent several generations of family, a multitude of memories and how simple it was many, many years ago to have fun.   

Once more for Barrel One: I’m going to hold onto whatever I’ve got left for as long as I possibly can.

Once more for Barrel Two: One day Krischan will own my treasured marble collection.  I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have it after I’m gone.  These marbles I won’t mind losing.      

However, I can’t say the same for the ones over in Barrel One.