A Fading Mind

A Fading Mind

Does she remember, oh does she remember?

Does she remember my face, my voice, the mornings she cooked us breakfast before eight?
Doe she remember the late night snacks and the laughter between our late day naps?

Doe she remember me at all?

I think not, her face is distant her, voice is subtle. Her memories are the repetition of years gone and years I was not around. I have grown, maybe that is it? Oh but no, for I can see it in her eyes, slightly nervous, confused of my presence.

Who is this man she may be thinking? As I stare at her as if she is a stranger as well. An awkward separation of two that were once close. How strange a mind can lose what was once a fondness for us both.

Frail her bones her posture odd. Her appetite weak and her friends, her friends I don't think know they are friends. It is an odd place for me, for us to be. No common ground but the soft sounds of Christmas in the background.

She sings and I see her humor and joy have made it through the receding thoughts of her brain. But what a shame, our family torn in the name of grudges, grudges I know nothing of. Our names tainted with blame and distant shame.

A chaos she has forgotten and never wished to have existed. What a lovely smile she still has, I wonder if her cooking would still be just as grand. Oh but I doubt it, for she forgets that her food is before her.

Saddened I feel, for I stayed away out of fear. For her daughter judged us rudely. Seething with teeth of greed only to ask us to visit when the end is near. How sad, I have to watch her fade from afar. I know nothing of her journey her stories.

Too young was I as I loved her without them. But now, now I wish I had asked, talked, and begged for her stories. But selfish was I, in living my life in a stupor of drinks and sin. Now she lives among strangers and lonely days.

But does she even know what lonely is? Does she know pain or family?

How beautiful it must be. Living in a mind that is uncontrollably blind. Withering slowly without pain without memory of what was or is. Laugh today, and tomorrow, laugh about the same thing as if it were new.

How odd, how beautiful, to say goodbye without knowing I am alive today.
Have you ever dealt with a family member and Alzheimer?
If so, how did you handle it? 

Guess what, I have written a book, check it out! A Man's Traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words 


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