When I was twenty-two, I ran a little burger shop on the beach in Northern Michigan. That summer I would leave work every day and join my 80-something year old friend Liz for happy hour. Overlooking Lake Michigan, we sipped wine and snacked on sour cream and onion dip while we talked politics and love lives and gardening.
She shared her frustrations of having bits of her chipped away by the brain tumor that ended up marking that her last summer.
Most exasperating for her was her loss of word recall.
She knew the word but simply couldn’t find it in her brain so would offer related words for us to hone in on it for her. I dubbed these word charades.
It would go something like this —
The hot liquid you eat with a spoon.
Soup.
The thing in the corner that gives light to the room.
Lamp.
(These unintentionally sound like pages from Goodnight Moon.)
It was a bit like Taboo without the buzzer.
These word associations were approached with humor and patience, but it was obvious that she wished her words came as easily as they once did.
I’ve thought of Liz often as these past few years have found me in a similar position, minus the brain tumor. There are words I know that I know but simply can’t access. I can feel where they are in my brain as my mind goes to reach for them. I just can’t get there.
It’s like being too short to grab the box on the top shelf at the grocery store. I see it. I know it’s there. I can almost touch it. Nope. Just out of reach. It can also feel like opening the cupboard to grab something only to see that the object isn’t there. I’m left with an empty space instead of the baking soda.
Most days, like Liz, I laugh this off. I too play word charades or find a new word or those around me guess based on context. We move on.
The clothes desk.
Dresser.
Conversation continues.
On days when I’m tired or in pain, this can feel devastating. It can push me over the edge. Forgetting the word for apple can lead to tears. It’s a painful reminder of the aspects of me that aren’t quite working and how far I am from being at the top of my game.
Recently I’ve been blanking on the names of the children of some of my closest friends. Thankfully, they do not take this personally. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a total jerk at times.
My advice to anyone who has someone experiencing this in their life is to be kind and as patient as possible. The word loss is not intentional and is likely a greater strain on your friend or loved one than it is on you.
Read the room. Be aware if it’s the kind of day when you can joke about this together or if poking fun at it will result in tears. There will be clues. Don’t put the sole responsibility of navigating these social dynamics on the person who is already struggling. A little awareness and compassion will go a long way.
If you’re lucky, you’ll inadvertently invent wonderful alternate names for things.
Want more riveting tales of word recall or lack thereof? You know what to do.
I have always appreciated the way Nathan Pyle brings humor to this subject! Thanks for sharing!
Love hearing how you see and feel your way through life, Libby ❤️🌈