Lately I’ve begun noticing that I need to repeat things to my mom more than once. It’s either one of two, she’s not paying attention, or she simply forgets things.
My mom probably concerns me because Alzheimer runs pretty strong in my family.
Witnessing how my grandmother lost herself in this disease simply broke my heart. I knew deep inside that the person who laid on that bed for more than five years wasn’t her. She had left a long time ago. Just thinking that my mom can become a prisoner of her mind makes me nauseated and sends shivers through out my entire body.
Yet, nothing I can think or say will prevent this from happening if it is to happen. But, I sure will try to do damage control.
The most I can do is stay put and help her as time leaves its footsteps along the way.
Mom certainly wouldn’t shape up to Ben Franklin’s quote when he said, “…..some die at 25, but are buried at 90.”, or something like that. Sorry, Ben if I got it wrong! I’ll need to hire a facts checker if I get famous blogging along the way.
She’s lived her almost 72 years intensely. Hasn’t wasted a minute pondering, just taken life heads on, like one of those rouged men from the series Mountain Men.
Today, as I searched her room for some money she had lost, my memory took me back to my grandmother’s house as she searched for the same thing I was looking for today.
My treasure hunt finished when I found the money rolled like a cigarette inside a hair curler.
My heart went heavy, as I came to the conclusion, that are next stop will be an appointment with a neurologist. I can’t continue to hide my head in the ground as an ostrich.
I just need to face all this as my mom has faced her life, heads on!