Those of us whose hearing is not quite as good as it used to be will appreciate the following. Regan Rose writes . . .

I knew that my husband’s hearing had deteriorated after our friend — new to the city — asked where he could meet some singles.

“Well,” said my husband, “I see them in the Wal Mart parking lot diving for fries.”

“Dear,” I intervened. “Singles, not seagulls.”

Hearing is not the only thing failing in my life . . . there is also the memory problems. I can identify with Ann Luman who wrote the following . . .

What Am I Doing Here?

Just a note to send my greetings,

Let you know I’m still alive,

Though I’m getting more forgetful,

Things just seem to slip my mind.

I fuss and fret and try to think,

But all that comes to me

Is pain between my eyeballs Ð

My head hurts terribly!

I walk into the bathroom

To retrieve a headache pill.

There I stand, listing my options,

Wondering what I’m doing here.

I back into the hallway,

“Start all over,” I suggest.

Then, remembering what I needed,

I head back toward the shelf.

But once more, memory fails me,

“Why am I here?” I ask.

Then my eye falls on my toothbrush,

And I take my dentures out.

Still, it seems like there was something else .

“What could it be?” I pose.

Then I fill the tub with water

And sit down awhile to soak.

“This isn’t it,” I tell myself.

“I come for something more.”

Then I spy the scales and, dripping wet,

Stride quickly ‘cross the floor.

I step onto the circular disk

And struggle hard to see

The number on the dial below -

“Where could my glasses be?”

I step into the bedroom

Where I’m sure my specs I’ll find,

But standing there beside the bed,

I just cannot decide

Why I’ve come here Ð did the phone ring?

Then I see the looking glass

Good heavens! I’m stark naked!

I’d better get dressed Ð fast!

I step up to the closet,

Pull the chain to flick, the light.

My nightgown hangs before me.

“Oh! It’s time to say good night.”

I slip into my nightie

As I hum a sleep-tight song,

Pull the covers up around me Ð

But wait! There’s something wrong.

It’s the sun. It’s at my window!

How could day arrive so soon?

Then I spy the clock and blink my eyes.

“For heaven’s sake! It’s noon!”

I hurry to the bathroom,

Since I’m running for behind.

There I stand, listing my options,

Wondering what I came to find.

I see this note I started Ð

Now I can’t remember when.

“I’ll finish it, right now, right here Ð

If I can find a pen.”

I shuffle to the kitchen

Where by chance I come upon

A recipe for turnips.

But, my stars! This type is small.

But my focus is so bad,

A pain streaks o’er my temples Ð

Creates misery in my head.

I walk into the bathroom

To retrieve a simple pill . . .

It all seems so familiar Ð

What AM I doing here?

And last of all, my favorite “memory story”

One of our readers recently told me, “My memory is starting to go. I locked the keys in my car the other day.

“Fortunately, I had forgotten to get out first.”