Alzheimer and I

Have you ever climbed into a car and just drove? You have a destination and a time to be there. You know what you're supposed to do when you get there and you know exactly what it is you are there to accomplish...and then... you get there. You get there and you think what am I doing here? What will I say? You ask yourself all kinds of questions until you are unable to remember. And when you push that swinging door open and the dim lights alter your vision like a darkroom, and your sights aren't set on everything in the room anymore, they are set on that one person that makes you smile in any weather, that person who you loved all the days of your life and who loves you all the days of her life... and even when she doesn't know who she is, she knows you. And she knows that your love is like no other. She knows how lucky she is to have you and what it feels like to almost lose you as a child. She knows everything about how you sing when you clean, how you pay attention to details and how you love to play in the rain. You were never crazy in her eyes, just merely creative. She packed your lunch for school when you were little...and now you make her breakfast when you visit. She loves you because you are her, right down to the dimples in your head. The two of you suffer together. You, like her, are lost in a realm of illusion and reality is something people keep trying to call you back to. Her pain is your pain and your pain is her pain and no one knows that, not even you. No one knows how you feel, and you can't even begin to explain this. There is no explaining, but you know that. You even share the same secrets, you are both ready to move on to a world without secrets and pain and a better life together. Because you're tired. Tired of keeping secrets. You're good at it, but you are tired of it. Aren't you?

A.Patton