Recently, my father has been unable to remember the word "catheter" and sometimes "cough drop." He is a mathematician who always did speedy calculations in his head, but on Saturday he thought 400 times 500 was 20,000.
The other day I was practicing a handstand and decided to kick up against a door. The door was not latched, so as my heels made contact, the door opened, my legs flailed, and I fell to the ground, knee scraped. What happens when the details we depend on vanish?
My daughter is just discovering that she can peel garlic cloves and unscrew door stops. She says "ya ya," and "ma ma," and "wow!" She has learned to reach for a hand before going down stairs, but sometimes she gets impatient and starts down alone.
I tell my father again the word is "catheter." I take my daughter's hand, this time before she falls, but maybe not fast enough next time. I wonder how to hold on to the details and at the same time not depend on them too much.
