Ah, my brain – what a peculiar roommate it’s been these seventy-odd years. Once sharp and clear as crystal, now more like a well-loved old coat: soft around the edges, with a few loose threads and the occasional hole where a memory used to be.
It’s a hoarder, you know – still hanging on to the sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival, but can’t for the life of it remember where I put my phone five minutes ago.
Sometimes, it surprises me. It will come up with a clever turn of phrase or solve a Sudoku Puzzle that I would have considered impossible even in my youth. Other times, it takes me on a merry chase, like when I walk into the kitchen and forget why I’m there. (It’s usually for tea, of course, or was it to find my phone – my brain likes to keep me guessing.)
But don’t be fooled—this brain of mine is a survivor. It’s weathered decades of love, loss, depression, laughter, and the occasional poorly-timed gaff. It may not be what it once was, but it’s mine. And if I’m lucky, it’s got a few good surprises still left in store for me.
I like my brain, it is a good friend who always keeps me guessing.
Ciaran Leamy - Author 