I noticed a juice that supports brain health sitting on the floor of my parents’ kitchen. It could be coincidence that they bought that specific juice, especially since my dad is known for buying intriguing juice flavors, but I think it might be due to a growing concern of developing dementia.\r\n\r\nMy grandfather, who just passed away in May, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. He was such a quiet and peaceful man that the effects really weren’t too noticeable. His wife, my grandmother, has various forms of dementia, and due to her inquisitive and caring nature, it’s been noticeable for years. At first, it was saddening to answer the same questions every few minutes, but eventually, it became second nature, and I grew to answer each question with the same amount of enthusiasm without a trace of sorrow. For the most part, my grandma usually remembered who I was, and she was interested in my life so much that our conversations were mostly filled with questions about me. That was the way our relationship was, and I found solace in the fact that she cared so much about me, so it didn’t matter that I constantly had the same dialogue with her.\r\n\r\nHowever, the angst that I was able to overcome has crept back into my heart over these past two months. Many of us were fortunate enough to surround my grandfather during his last moments, and when he passed, the grief took a stronger hold on all of us. But what broke my heart into little pieces was my grandmother constantly reliving that crushing moment of grief over the news of her husband’s death.\r\n\r\nEven now, she still doesn’t always remember, and while her disbelief and devastation is not as intense as those first two weeks, it really doesn’t get any easier to remind her. I find myself constantly grieving for her, and wishing that she could hold on to her memory. On days that she remembers on her own, I optimistically think that it is a sign that she’ll begin to keep this memory. However, science knocks me back to reality, and I regretfully acknowledge that Alzheimer’s and dementia do not get better, but rather worsen over time.\r\n\r\nWhile I feel selfish for contemplating it during this period, I can’t help but wonder if Alzheimer’s will be my fate as well. I’ve noticed that I’ve been forgetting things more than usual lately, and I’m not sure if it’s my typical memory loss, or if I’m just more in tune to it because of my paranoia over developing symptoms. I’m only 31 years old, and as far as I know, early-onset Alzheimer’s does not run in my family, so I take some consolation in that. Regardless, I installed a chess app on my phone to keep my mind sharp, and have been wanting, and forgetting, to get a few crossword books. I’ve put a lot of thought into increasing my antioxidant intake, and that’s why the pomegranate blueberry juice in my parents’ kitchen grabbed my attention the other day. Maybe I’m not the only one.
“Gee, my husband is old,” she muttered aloud to no one in particular.\r\n\r\nShe briefly wondered when time had slipped past them, but let that thought drift as she decidedly focused on their current situation. One of them was going to need to get a job soon. Bills don’t pay themselves.\r\n\r\nWhy did she stop working anyway?\r\n\r\nLight footsteps, and hushed chattering from the other room interrupted her thoughts. Someone else is here! As in response to her curiosity, her grandson appeared in the doorway.\r\n\r\nOh, she loved her grandchildren so much! They all turned into such wonderful young adults. He gently gave her a kiss and took a seat to her left. The small talk they shared brightened up her dreary afternoon.\r\n\r\nWhen the conversation lulled, she took a moment to gaze off in silent reflection. Suddenly, she remembered that she hadn’t spoken to her mother in quite some time. She really should call her before the day ended.\r\n\r\nLooking for the phone, she glanced to her right and noticed her husband lazily napping the day away.\r\n\r\nShaking her head, still searching for the phone, and musing over her husband’s sudden aging, she turned her head leftward.\r\n\r\nNoticing a young man sitting in the worn armchair beside her, she uttered to him, “Gee, my husband is old.”\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n***I wrote this very short story as a coping tool to help process my current thoughts and feelings. This one just wouldn’t leave my brain, so I quickly typed it out this morning. Having no official creative writing background, I have no intention of editing or expanding on it. Being that it’s a form of writing, and it’s been a while since I updated my blog, I figured I’d just share it here, rather than keep it tucked away in my computer files.***