Memory? What memory?

Once again I've sat down in front of the computer to write about something. Only to forget whatever it is that I was planning on writing. So I'm going to write about my memory... Or I should say my lack of memory.

Lately I can't remember what I've done the rest of the day. Ask me about yesterday and I'll give you a vague stare. Yesterday? There was a yesterday? Those are the questions running through my mind to that question.

People think I'm joking when I say that I think I'll get tested for Alzeheimers but I'm not, not really. With how forgetful I am it is showing up in my work. I think this next appraisal will not be quite so glowing... and with good reason. So I'm kinda wondering whether I will be asked to leave. In one way it would be a relief but I've grown accustom to the extra pin money, and it would be hard to cut back. But I suppose I would be able to do it.

This is so difficult for me because I use to have such an excellent memory. When I was younger I could remember the slightest detail of a day. Now all I have is the old memories. Nothing of recent time is there. For example I think I asked Passionfruit several times what it was he was eating this afternoon. I'm surprised he didn't get really upset with me. What's even more terrifing is I knew that I had recently asked him what he was eating I just couldn't remember what the answer was. One of those times I didn't remember I had asked him until he told me what he was eating.

I have a friend with early onset Alzeheimers. He is only in his fifties. I saw him at a party a couple of months ago. He looked good. I think I might have approached him too fast, and too familiarly but he covered rather well. But about 10 minutes later he came to me and gave me a hug and asked me how I was. My heart breaks when I think about this man. I always enjoyed dancing with him but he can't now because he can't remember the steps. He is a really great dancer. It really bums me out. But the worst part is I hate knowing that he may only get worse. I hate the idea that he won't remember his children at some point and my heart breaks for his wife because there may come a time when she will only be an intimate stranger.

What's worse is being scared that I may be heading down that road myself. My grandfather and grandmother (paternal) died from Alzeheimers. I think my father may have been developing Alzeheimers but he was struck down with cancer before things really, really got obivious. Thank God. But I could see things in my father in the last years of his life where he was confused at times. He would frequently confuse me for one of my sisters. But I can't remember the other examples of his confusion.

Alzeheimers is such a terrible disease. It touches so many lives. Of course the individual with Alzeheimers but also the care takers and family members. I don't have much first hand experience with the disease for my grandfather died at 54, and I lived half a continent away from my grandmother. I do have a distinct memory of visiting my grandmother the summer after I got married. I took Passionfruit to meet my grandmother. By this time my grandmother was at the state of just sitting and not interacting with the world around her. I remember going in and kissing her forehead. She didn't show any sign of recognition. It was like she wasn't my grandmother. Worse than that it was like she wasn't living anymore. Alive but not living. We took her outside for some sunshine. While we were out there my grandmother looked at Passionfruit and asked him, "Have you done your good deed for the day?" Passionfruit wasn't sure how to answer that one. So he asked her what she wanted. Because my grandmother had forgotten how to walk and wasn't able to move around much the nursing home had put boots on her feet to keep them from developing bedsores. She wanted Passionfruit to remove them from her feet. How this made me cry. For just a few seconds my grandmother had come back to us.

That is the horrors of this disease. Alive but not living.