Remembering

There are moments that one wants to remember.  The things that you are so certain you will never forget. People you will never forget. How could you get to a place in your mind, where the precious things, the precious people are gone?

I have a beloved aunt who suffers from, and yes, I think 'suffers' is accurate, early onset Alzheimer's.  I am going home, and besides my immediate family, she is the one I long most to see.  I wonder if she'll remember me.  Not that I should stand out amongst the nieces and nephews. There are certainly those who live closer, have closer relationships…. but I DO wish to be remembered, and I am sad at the thought that I possibly may not be.

I think Mamma (Mummy's mother) perhaps had Alzheimer's.  After the fact, it would have explained so much.

I am reading this book. It was recommended to me by a friend some time ago, when I spoke about my aunt. Still Alice by Lisa Genova.  I have not finished yet, and my heart breaks for the central character in this book.

Do you know how, if you ever did a year or two or three in Psych, you study abnormal psychology?  Suffice it to say, that by the end of the semester, we all thought we were fit for a mental institution. Perhaps because there lies in each of us that 'little bit'.  The one cup shy of a gallon which would make us certifiable.  You start seeing the manic, bipolar, depressed 'you', and until you realize that we've all got a bit of crazy, but a little bit of crazy is normal, it can well nigh drive you crazy!!

So…. This book scares me, because it brings to the surface  fears. Fears that , Mamma, Aunty….. it filters down.  That the Mummy Mush Porridge Brain, the Sleep Deprived Forgetful me… is perhaps not just that.

That the times when I have driven somewhere and forgotten why, or forgotten to mail the IRS check that I went to the post office to mail and cried when I realized at 9pm what had happened, or printed labels, put them away, and two minutes later couldn't remember where I found them to reprint….could. not. find. them.  The panic that rises is suffocating when it happens.

I wonder which is worse for those who go through this. The losing of oneself and being aware of it, or the  frustration of a world determined to be 'against' you.

Why did I get the book now?  Because I want to understand when I go home, and she perhaps doesn't want me there, or gets nasty.  I am glad to have known her as sweet and kind and gentle, because I know I may not see 'her' this time.

Breathe. Sleep. Rest. Live. Remember.