Of course, at my age I go to more funerals and memorial services than weddings, bar mitzvahs or baby showers. Last night's memorial gathering was more like a joyous wake than a funereal assembly, except we didn't drink as much as I understand they do at wakes. Still, we did all right as we toasted the friend, mentor, guide and governess of the people present, a disparate group whose common denominator was our variegated profession (writing) and our devotion and gratitude to the departed one.

Talk about memory lane! The older we get the more surprising flashes of memory we get, surprising and often unwelcome, at least uncalled for. But in the case of this trip it was all focused on one person and our concomitant revelations. The experience actually gave me a clue as to another way of harnessing memory, and directing it.

Does anyone remember Eric Berne? (1010-1970) He was famous as the creator of transactional analysis (TA), very popular in the 1950s, and his book, Games People Play (1964), was a best-seller. I was a big fan; his theory helped me get along with my mother. I've used one of his games as a guide to character analysis and dialogue in my play-writing. People play "yes, but..." when you try to suggest solutions to their problems, rebutting all your ideas with their objections. It makes for escalating dialogue. Most of the games he describes are destructive but there are a few benign ones. "Cavalier" is one of them, for men, the female counterpart being "Blarney." My mother, for all her sins, was really good at Blarney and I admired her for it. Her granddaughters were entranced.

I found Berne's book to be a useful trigger to focused memory, and that's why I mention it now. I'd forgotten about it and was pleased to find it in my Seedbed shelf. My copy was in the 15th printing and it cost $5.95. (Wow!) It's still a useful, entertaining book. I'm going to re-read it. I'm writing a book about aging and I need all the memories I can get.

It's a fiddley day today, but someone has to cope with it. Booking tickets is bad enough but adding other people into the mix, then it's like herding cats. This is when it would be lovely to have a clone, or a secretary, personal assistant or wife to look after the details.

Well, I had a friend whose husband encouraged her to look after the details, even though he had a secretary. He thought it would be good for her to get used to doing it before he died. Guess what? She died first.

I can remember a terrible selfish pang of pain or jealousy a few months after my husband died when I was visiting friends and we were going to a party together and when we were ready to leave the house, my friend slipped her lipstick into her husband's pocket. That's all she needed. No keys, no driver's license, no money, nothing. Just her husband's strong arm and generous pocket. I had always taken them for granted until I started coping entirely by myself, 24/7, as they say.

I'm planning a number of different events and trips and if they don't work out, I have only myself to blame. When I do goof I make a note not to do that again. But there's always something else and that's annoying, too, something you overlooked or forgot or thought maybe it would work out. but it doesn't. It never does. I hate those movies where things go wrong. They're billed as comedies but they're not, they're reality shows. I hate reality shows.

I hate fiddleys.