Time

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…

 

9 thoughts on “Time

  1. Dona, I’m really sorry to hear about your mother. Mine too was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s several years ago. It is her personal tragedy, but it is also yours. We’re losing our mothers, bit by bit, every time we see them and talk to them. And I think it is very natural to think about whether we too will suffer from this in twenty years time.

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    1. I am not sure how she is feeling. Sometimes she feels depressed and confused — especially when her friend, Richard, is not around. Looking at the pictures I took over our short Christmas vacation, she looks sad in almost all of them. I don’t know if hte medication is helping at all. She seems the same to me as she did in September, but those who live with her say she’s gotten worse.

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