It is 8:20 in the morning and i’m alone in my big living room thinking about a million things
My father is at the hospital
He was diagnose with Alzeihmer disease two years ago
And it’s getting worst every day, as we know it would.
I don’t know how i feel about it. It is strange to say, i know. But it’s not about how i’m feeling, it’s about him.
And he, of course, can even begin to describe how he feels
On his good days, he’s recognize me
On his bad days, he’s faking it
But i know, oh, i know
I see it so clearly in his eyes that he is clueless
I don’t know why he bother though ?
Maybe faking is the last thing he have to hide the fact that he lose sight of who he is
Of who we are
Of where he lives
I know that’s not something who will go away
No getting better.
And that is infuriating
Memory is sacred
And nothing, nothing on this earth should never touch that so endlessly intimate part of someone
He now have no past, no present and apparently no futur
I just hope he’s not scared
And even if the day he don’t have any memories at all is fast approching
I want him to know that it’s okay
We have them
locked up very deeply in our souls, in our hearts
Some place where i hope any disease or illness could EVER erase them
I love him so very much
And please, please let him be not scared…