To what did I give thanks this year? I felt like a ghost as I sat at the family table, the sounds of chatter coming from all around, but none directed at me. It was the same as every other Thanksgiving, only this time it felt personal.
Not because they neglected me. I was accustomed to that and therefore held no ill will towards them for it.
No. What I took personally was the oncoming dementia, betrayed that even my own mind was forsaking me.
For a while now, I'd suspected parts of my life missing, events that were left open-ended, even though I knew I'd fulfilled them. The evidence was here- in these photos on my parent's wall. How could they exist if I didn't experience those moments?
The strangeness didn't end there. On more than one occasion, I'd blacked out and come to only to discover hours passed- precious time I'd never get back.
It terrified me.
What would happen when I no longer remembered my waking moments? Would they become forgotten like my dreams, where only shards of them remain, haunting me with the incomplete version of the story that was supposed to be?
What would happen then? Would I truly become a ghost? A forgotten soul? Nothing? Was this perhaps a blessing in disguise, a kindness that was afforded to me?
I preferred that option.
If I were to lose my memory... I wouldn't have to live through my constant loneliness again like I did today.
About the Creator
Brin J.
I never believed the sky is the limit, therefore my passions are expansive. My interest in writing stemmed from poetry but my heart lead me to Sci-Fi Fantasy. Consequently, my stories are plot-driven with splashes of evocative elements.
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Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Echoes of Home: A Journey Through the Heartland
In the heart of the Heartland, where the amber waves of grain stretch to the horizon and the sky seems to embrace the earth in an endless embrace, there lies a quiet beauty that whispers tales of the past and promises of the future. It's a place where time moves a little slower, and the rhythms of life beat to the gentle cadence of the seasons.
By Betsy Goeh3 days ago in Fiction
Turning Pages of Life
Life’s like a book — some parts are good, others not so much. Still, keep turning the pages; you might find the best chapter next. If someone hurts you, choose to forgive or just let it be, but never change who you are for them.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing5 days ago in Poets
Comments (8)
Blessing or curse. Through thirty years of ministry (& beyond) I have witnessed both & so much more in between. In my first appointment, I remember witnessing the absolute terror on a woman's face just to have her pastor who she didn't know sitting next to her on the floor. I was told it was always like that with her. She was always afraid & often cried out. I never learned how to reach out to her. Others have remained all smiles, no matter who was around. But the most important thing I ever learned was when I was working in a local nursing home one summer while I was in college. Never assume you know what to do or handle someone with dementia (or without, for that matter). Always ask & remember to treat them as a human being with dignity & respect, for that is indeed who they are.
Heartbreaking, terrifying, jaw dropping! This was such a great story, great work Brin!
Heartbreaking, but an important piece. Brin, well done on tackling such a difficult subject with sensitivity, but without holding back the brutal honesty of what living with that disease must be like. Well done, really well done.
As someone with family suffering from dementia, this hit home. This was tragic and haunting. Great work!!
This is deep. Well done!
This was so heartwreching. So much truth to this story. Very well done!
Wonderfully written and excellent word!!!
Oh my…this hit hard. So well done. I hope this is something I don’t have to experience myself. It’s been hard enough seeing this happen to loved ones. Really well done, Brin.