How I made peace with my crossword-puzzle brain

Names are escaping me. Names of everything from people to restaurants, streets and stores.

And I’m not alone. Headlines abound of people floating through their days in a cognitive fog. Is it long COVID or middle age?

Somewhere in my memory bank, unfazed by this new syndrome, I recall that crossword puzzles are good exercise for keeping your memory long and limber.

So one Monday last year I jumped in — and diligently tried plowing through the daily puzzles, often getting stumped by Wednesday. How did I not know that the puzzle gets harder the deeper into the week you wade?

So what have I learned over the past 50 Mondays of crossword puzzles?

Initially not much. I would take a first pass and blank squares would shout at me: “You once knew all this!”

I picked it up and set it down. Picked it up and set it down.

And then it started to make sense.

I learned that a ball is just a ball, but it’s never an answer to a puzzle question. When you need a three-letter word, it’s an “orb.”

Double letter words are particularly important, so if you’re looking for a British bathroom, it’s a “loo.” A “ewe” is a mama sheep, not something gross, and when you’re cold and need a double letter, it’s “brr.”

Hot spots for vacations are “spas” and the difference between “elms” and “alms” is one letter.

I learned that “hue” is a shade while “Huey” was a guy with the News.

“Ana” and “Ava” can be winds or Duvernay. The “FDA” seems to be a very busy agency. While “dos” can be an old computer program or something you get done to your hair. Watch out for “slo,” which is the connection you are looking for with -mo, while “sloe” is a gin or a berry.

There are some clues that point in only one direction: If they’re looking for a woodwind instrument and you’re not a musician, don’t fret — it’s just an “oboe.” The gemstone you always need is an “opal,” regardless of your birth month, and if it’s a lake and it’s great, it’s likely to be “Erie.”

Most poetry questions will land on “ode” or “ere,” and you should know that there is only one toaster waffle company with 2 Gs. And why are puzzle makers obsessed with Brian “Eno”?

The Taj Mahal is never in India, it’s in “Agra,” and “Vega” is the last name of an indie rocker and a star in Lyra. Your best savings option is an “IRA,” a camera type is an “SLR,” while a fox or Stallone are gonna be “sly.”

Among people alive or dead, real or imagined, the last “tsar” may have died over 100 years ago but he is living his best life in the puzzle. “Elmo” is by far the most popular puppet by virtue of that well-placed O. And “Nero” fiddles most weeks.

A helpful hint if you want to join the puzzle pack: Brush up on your Greek alphabet, rewatch “Star Wars,” “The Hobbit” and “The Simpsons,” and bone up on your Taylor Swift songs. Airport codes are nice to know, as are basic Spanish phrases and the stories of “Poe.”

Soccer chants and Parliament votes come out as “oye” and “aye,” or it might be something a pirate would say.

In some ways there is a parallel universe of things that live inside the world of puzzles and nowhere else. It’s like that math you learn in high school and never see again. For example, if all I knew I learned from the crossword puzzle, I might think “Fez” is a popular destination of the Ottoman Empire and a great-looking hat.

I would run out of gas searching for an “Esso” station and wonder if our land was filled with “ogres” named Fiona. I would think the “ulna” is our most important bone, and “Sela” Ward our most popular actress.

I would recognize “Oprah” as the queen of all media, and there aren’t a lot of words that end in H, which is why there isn’t much love for Harpo, although “Utah” is often the state you need. I would assume “ABBA” is the world’s most popular band and I might think that the candy dispenser “Pez” is as ubiquitous, and important, as a cash dispenser, “ATM.”

Is my memory getting any better?

In certain situations. For example, if someone speaks in four-letter words or asks for South Asian cuisine, I can surmise they want “Thai” food.

So what’s the real lesson of the puzzle?

The truth is, most days I’m stumped — on the first try. And then I set it down and go about my day, and when I pick it up again, clarity somehow arrives.

It’s persistence and mostly patience, maybe the oldest rules in the book that I somehow forgot.

I just wish they were four-letter words.