Thursday, May 27, 2004

THE STRANGER..WITH THE FAMILIAR VOICE

I didn't feel like writing on Tuesday and Wednesday.

The calls are getting harder to make each day.

Peggy has no idea that she is talking with me. She has lost the ability to put a face to a voice or to know how to hang up the phone after I say good-bye.

It is odd to hear her familiar voice and feel as though I am talking with a stranger, but I am.

What can you say to a person who doesn't remember you any longer and cannot recall their own history. 

Peggy and I were so close all of our years together. Now, I feel a sense of lost without her.  There is no way to tell her how lost I am feeling and have her understand that concept.

It is difficult to deal with being forgotten. All my insecurities come to the surface as I wander in my mind to the possibility that I too, may get Alzheimer's. I have to fight to keep a healthy outlook or my fear would freeze me.

Some day's, I just cry as I deal with the empty space where Peggy used to be. She is so young to endure this terrible fate. We were supposed to grow old together and share our lives along the way.  Now, there is only winter in our Summer chairs.

Today, Peggy was quiet as she answered my questions with one word. I wanted to scream through the phone and say..STOP THIS....        I Hate this. Just talk to me like you used to do. I felt frustrated while listening to her struggle.   I wanted to say...Peggy, wake up..this isn't funny any longer. STOP IT...STOP IT right now!

Today, I wished that I could tell her about my week but she isn't there any more. I can't share with her any longer. She is not my best friend any longer and I morn that loss.

I am dealing with a stranger that I have known all of my life. A stranger who has little memory of me. A familiar, detached stranger who continues to move farther and farther away.

It is unsettling to remember so much about her and to know that she...didn't even know who I was this morning.

A Happy thought crossed my mind as I hung up the phone though....

At Least I wasn't Jim from last week!! (smile)

My heart is hurting this morning as I think about this stranger who used to be Peggy.  There is no place more comforting than the arms of a sister and I know that I will never have that with Peggy, ever again.

Alzheimer's disease has entered her mind and sucessfully erased  her memories of me.

It feels bad to be forgotten.....

Forgotten  a. not remembered, not recalled,not recollected, lost, out of one's mind, erased from one's consciousness, beyond recollection, not recoverable, blanked out,  lapsed.........

Abandoned.

Peggy has forgotten that we are sister's but....

I Remember and will continue to remind her that she is loved. She might not remember what love is but I do.                                        I remember...MySister...My Friend. Sometimes...We have to love, knowing that we will not be loved back.    

I Love You Today, Peggy!

Mary Louise

8 comments:

barbpinion said...

I hurt so much for you. I know this must be one of the most devesating times in your life. The only thing that dims my sadness is the fact I know you'll see her again one day..and she WILL remember you. Much love, my friend. *Barb*

brewerm593 said...

I am sorry to hear this. I know that it is hard to handle this. And that this must be a rough time for you. I Hope that you have a better day, Bye

qtstargirl said...

It was nice reading your journal.  I took a class a few years ago on adult development and aging.  We studies althimerz.  It is such a sad disease.  We can only hope for happiness for it sufferes.  My prayers are with you.  I'm very close with my younger sister.  I can only imagine how devistating this must be for you.

Alysia
http://journals.aol.com/qtstargirl/JustagirlinMontana

kkasey47 said...

Your sister is so blessed that she has you. What a beautiful love you have for your sister.Not everyone is so lucky to have someone that sticks with them through thick and thin. She may not know who she is or who you are.But you remeber who she is and how important she is in your life, and you in her's.

blufaery84 said...

This whole situation must feel so unbarable. :(
All I can say is: Blessings to you and Peggy!!
~Kandi

merelyp said...

You've done it again with your picture of snowy summer chairs.  You never cease to amaze me.
You shouldn't feel frozen in fear about Alzheimer's, I don't think.  Research shows that those who regularly engage in language arts have a lesser chance of falling victim to it. (I'm abundantly aware you probably know that...)
Just wanted to let you know i still come here often and will turn my summer readers' theatre class loose on this journal.  I'm so excited to introduce your artistic style to their young, middle, and older aged minds.
You're an inspiration.

kathyrep2004 said...

Keep reading your entries and just finished the one with the picture of the snow covered chairs. It made me think of my husband who passed away over 17 yrs ago from a hemoragged malignant brain tumor. One which was never diagnosed. My mother-in-law told me it was probably for the best because had he been diagnosed and if the tumor been operable or treatable (which it wasn't they told me later) that he would have been vegetative. He wouldn't be able to speak or know who I was and who knows how long he may have lived that way. My heart goes out to you. I can picture that empty "gray" colored eyes looking back at me. But I don't remember him that way. He was comatose before he died. I spent all my hours that last day just staring at him, holding his hand while he was kept breathing by a respirator. It seems as though it was just yesterday. We never forget. It just is something you accept.

kathyrep2004 said...

P.S. from Kathrep: Seeing those snow-covered summer chairs, reminded me of a comment my husband made after we watched a Carol Burnett show years ago. She and Harvey Korman or another character played too old old codgers sitting in rocking chairs on a front porch. My husband looked at me and said, "that will be us some day."  He will never get to use that rocker on the front porch cause he passed away at the age of 35, a strong, muscular man who brought the humor to my life. As I sit here reading your entries, I hear the laughter of neighbrs thru my open window and it is a reminder that life goes on as well as does the heartache we have suffered in the past.