Until last February I never really thought about time so much. Not about my time — my time left on Earth, what my time was worth, my remaining good time. But in February I discovered something that left me feeling like I was on a speeding train heading into a dark tunnel and nothing could slow it down.
In February I learned my mother has Alzheimer’s disease. Thinking back I am pretty sure she has had it for some time. At least two years — that’s when she forgot the dates of my brother and I were born. Not just the years — but the actual dates. Then last year my cousin alerted me that she’d seen my mom in a restaurant and mom didn’t know who she was — and she is actually my mom’s first cousin. When I visited her for her birthday in February I accompanied her to the doctor who told me the news and that she’d been on meds for it for at least 18 months.
While this is not my personal tragedy — I am not the one with the disease — yet. It has made me think about the next twenty years. I am twenty years younger than my mother and I cannot help envisioning what I will be like at 78. I joke with my family about the things I might do (grab a tasty looking girly drink off someone’s table at a restaurant maybe?)
When I mention it to friends they assure me there will be better medication or even possibly a cure for it before too long. I hope so, but I am doubtful.
So I’ve begun a new blog — hosted here on dponline.org called Memories, in which I hope to capture some memories for the future. Things I want my kids to know — things they don’t know they want to know yet, to keep safe for when the time comes that I cannot remember or when I’m gone. Of course that means they will be paying for this web space when I am demented or dead…