It’s 6:52 AM, and I need to know right away why I’m wearing these socks.

They are not my usual white sport socks. They are white, but they’re a little longer.

They are very comfortable and provide a nice amount of pressure around the calf.

I think they are some kind of therapeutic sock for people with diabetes or thrombosis that acts up on planes.

I’m not sure what thrombosis is.

I recognize the feel of these socks, as I have worn them several times before. I remember buying these socks at some kind of CVS or pharmacy type chain store that was unfamiliar to me. I bought these socks because I had no other socks available to me, which means I must have been traveling, and had a limited sock supply.

I remember walking into the store and looking around. The sock selection was not as large as I had hoped. I had been hoping to find one of those bins with a big pile of socks that said “Men’s Socks – 10 pair $8.99.” I did not see such a bin, so I asked the counter-person if they sold socks. I felt a little embarrassed to be asking for socks, and wondered what the counter-person might be thinking about me – about someone who needed socks so desperately that they had to ask a counter-person at a non-CVS pharmacy.

So when and where did this sock purchase take place? Do I really need to go through the calendar on my phone, or scroll through my digital photo library to help solve this mystery?

Maybe I just need to finish my coffee and wait for all my faculties to come online. The fact that it’s taking so long is kind of worrisome – to the point that I’m taking this time to document the struggle.

I could ask Maureen. She might be helpful. But let’s continue the remembering here instead.

Oddly, I did this kind of sock-buying more than once and I’m confusing the memory I’m searching for with another pharmacy-chain-store sock-buying memory. I was on a business trip to Washington D.C. on a job for PBS. I needed dark socks for a meeting in order to look professional, so I went into a CVS or Duane Reed type store and found some dark, thigh-high socks in the foot problem aisle, near the corn medication and bunion pads. But that was over four years ago. Shouldn’t it be easier to recall the details of this much more recent sock acquisition?

The purchase of these socks occurred much more recently. It could have been during this recent transitional time while moving from LA to Alfred, NY. A lot of crazy stuff was going on then. Most of it is a blur and calling any of it to mind is kind of heartbreaking and makes me realize how much things have changed in such a short amount of time.

No, this was during a trip. To Michigan? Was it my first trip to Alfred, NY? Why would I have needed socks so much then? Did my socks get wet? I was definitely by myself for this sock purchase. But where? I need to do that thing where you stop trying to remember and just allow the memory to occur naturally. Like trying to coax a scared kitten out of a hiding place. If it’s hiding under a bed, you can’t just dive in there after it. You have to stay back and lure it out by opening a can of tuna.

I will remember when and where I bought these socks. But for now, I will get the kids out of bed.

Took the kids to school. Worked for an hour. Then, during my 20 minute meditation, it came to me. No technological assistance was required.

It was a few months ago when my mother-in-law was in the hospital recovering from heart surgery. I was staying the night in the hospital room. The weather was hot. I had forgotten to pack an extra pair of socks, but I knew that I would be taking my shoes off in order to get some sleep in the reclining bed/chair and I didn’t want to stink up the room. So I took a walk to the strip mall near the hospital and found what I think was a Rite-Aid in order to get a fresh pair of non-stinky socks. That is where I found the socks that I am wearing now.

I have been reading a lot about memory research lately, and much of it is about how erratic and un-trustworthy our brains can be when it comes to reconstructing past events. I wonder if my reliance on the calendar, notes, and photo library on my smart-phone is causing my memory to atrophy. I also wonder if maybe part of growing older is the realization that memory is, and always has been unreliable. When you’re young, you just assume events are being recorded in some kind of internal video library. But as you acquire more experiences, the gaps and mis-constructions become more apparent so, even if your brain is functioning the same as it did when you were young, you’re no longer as likely to trust it.

Maybe these socks will prevent further thrombosis of the mind.