I know his memory is bad. There is no question about it anymore. His short-term memory is practically non-existent.

Tonight was an exercise in keeping the sadness out of my expression during the hour between supper and Jim starting his evening routine.

Jim watched the Blue Jays baseball game this afternoon. As we returned to the TV room after our meal, the Blue Jays in 30 game recap/summary came on. Jim didn’t realize it was a summary and cursed at the other team getting a run and then marveled as the Jays hit home run after home run.

Then, the same Blue Jays in 30, the game summary played again. Jim watched, entranced and frustrated, as he cursed at the other team for getting a run and then marveled as the Jays hit home run after home run. He even said that the game was so good, he didn’t want to leave until it was done.

A third duplicate showing of Blue Jays in 30 was about to begin, so I changed the channel. Jim didn’t realize he’d already seen it, but I couldn’t watch it, and his reactions, again.

At no time was there a glimmer of recognition that he’d said these statements before or even a comprehension that this was a summary/recap/highlight reel of an earlier game. A game he’d already watched in its entirety (well, except for the occasional nap).

He just gleefully watched TV, and reacted to each play as if he was seeing it for the first time. He couldn’t remember seeing the plays before, but his reactions were almost identical. Verbatim. Every time.

To me, the lack of recognition that he’s been there/done that, is an accurate measure of how he’s fallen. It is a very rare occurrence these days that Jim realizes that he’s already asked a question. Honestly, I think it’s more from my tone of amusement (and hopefully not impatience) that he figures out that it’s not the first time I’ve answered the same question.

It breaks my heart when I see recognition dawn on his face. Because I know, that’s when he realizes there is something wrong, and he can’t make it better.