<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609</id><updated>2011-08-13T08:25:34.526-07:00</updated><category term='christmas'/><category term='WATCHING MY SISTER...DISAPPEAR'/><title type='text'>WATCHING MY SISTER....DISAPPEAR</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>481</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2792353112114575706</id><published>2009-11-25T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T19:57:17.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JOHN NOW</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/Sw38dEakLxI/AAAAAAAAALo/1rHhGj4vdLo/s1600/INDIAN+LAKE+8-7-09+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408256303873404690" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/Sw38dEakLxI/AAAAAAAAALo/1rHhGj4vdLo/s400/INDIAN+LAKE+8-7-09+012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2792353112114575706?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2792353112114575706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2792353112114575706' title='43 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2792353112114575706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2792353112114575706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2009/11/john-now.html' title='JOHN NOW'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/Sw38dEakLxI/AAAAAAAAALo/1rHhGj4vdLo/s72-c/INDIAN+LAKE+8-7-09+012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>43</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6261131492653374138</id><published>2009-11-25T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T19:33:52.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PEGGY AND JOHN</title><content type='html'>Peggy is very happy right now!&lt;br /&gt;She laughs and smiles. It is like she is in a very safe, happy place in what is left of her mind. I think she must be in the happy toddler stage. If she has to go backward in her mind, I'm glad she is content.&lt;br /&gt;I love you today, Peggy! It has been a long road that is not over yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, about my husband, John.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease 2 years ago but I had noticed symptoms for 5 years because of watching Peggy disappear.&lt;br /&gt;I know he has Parkinson's but he is declining in his memory also. I am going to ask the Doctor if he could have Alzheimer's too.&lt;br /&gt;He has so many of the same symptoms that Peggy had early in her disease.&lt;br /&gt;He was a brilliant man. Head of several departments at a huge medical center. A public speaker who kept people glued to the topic he was discussing.&lt;br /&gt;Now, he can no longer read. He has trouble speaking and does not know how to make change.  He has balance problems and falls a lot.  He can no longer tell time or drive the car.&lt;br /&gt;We used to talk and discuss many issues, now, he sits and is very quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He looks like the John that I knew but isn't any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I search the Internet to find anything to help him.&lt;br /&gt;It is like having a child instead of a husband.&lt;br /&gt;I am scared and very  lonely. I have support groups etc. but I miss my John, the old John.&lt;br /&gt;I am very tired of handling everything but I see him with much love and will do what I need to do to help make life easier for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to start a new blog about John soon. It will be called  "DON'T LET GO OF MY HAND, JOHN"&lt;br /&gt;We have always held hands since the summer of 1962 when we met.&lt;br /&gt;I feel him slipping away and I will never let go of his hand!!!!!!!! I know that there will come a day when He will let go of mine! Please, hold on John...Don't let go.......&lt;br /&gt;Please, don't let go!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I love you Today, John!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6261131492653374138?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6261131492653374138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6261131492653374138' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6261131492653374138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6261131492653374138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2009/11/peggy-and-john.html' title='PEGGY AND JOHN'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5536335003933180508</id><published>2009-11-09T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T17:24:01.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DISAPPEARING</title><content type='html'>Peggy is down to 100 pounds. She is very happy. Sings and laughs all day. I'm so glad that her last months on earth will be happy.&lt;br /&gt;Too bad that I cannot celebrate with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true that I have missed her so long that it will be easier to let her go.&lt;br /&gt;Time does heal....but my oh my......it sure takes a long TIME TO HEAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wounds will heal over in time but the Disappearance of my sister is burned in the wound and will not go away...until I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I face yet another challenge......Watching my Husband Disappear from Parkinson's Disease. He has an aggressive form.&lt;br /&gt;Life is not fair sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Peggy is helping me to watch John go slowly away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;I love you also, John  We will face this together!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5536335003933180508?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5536335003933180508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5536335003933180508' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5536335003933180508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5536335003933180508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2009/11/disappearing.html' title='DISAPPEARING'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1223287157438499952</id><published>2009-09-24T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T22:40:25.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PEGGY CONTINUES TO DISAPPEAR</title><content type='html'>I got this new picture of Peggy yesterday, I couldn't believe that this old tiny person&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SrxNy3yNRxI/AAAAAAAAALI/qegZ0iNIQCM/s1600-h/PEGGY+2009+SAD+PICTURE.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385264790791603986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SrxNy3yNRxI/AAAAAAAAALI/qegZ0iNIQCM/s400/PEGGY+2009+SAD+PICTURE.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; is my youngest sister. Alzheimer;s disease has taken her mind and now, her beautiful body. One thing that the disease will never take away is her wonderful smile. She does laugh and smile a lot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess Peggy has another few months on this earth. At least....she smiles, walks and is generally happy but she is beginning to forget how to chew and swallow so time is counting down for her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have cried all day and even experienced a panic attack when this image got into my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only thing that I could still see through my tears as they fall and I write this entry......     is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two sisters running barefooted through our neighborhood in Birmingham, Alabama. Climbing trees, roller skating, riding bikes, making clover chains, walking to Joe's store with a nickle each to buy a devils food cake or a grape Popsicle. I remember first dates, last dates and crying in the front bedroom when we were hurt by a boyfriend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PJ and I shared so much of our selves with one another all through our lives. Alzheimer's came and stayed in her mind and has erased all of her memories but....I still remember, Peggy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeing this photo of you made me aware that you will be leaving us soon. Far to early. You missed so much of your 40s,50s and just turned 60.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will never forget this picture of you, Peggy!!! Not because you look bad but because You look tired and ready to leave. I know you want to go because you flashed me your beautiful smile in the picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am heart broken tonight  and the tears block my view of the keys,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PJ, When you  die, will you do me a favor? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Find Mother and Daddy and tell them I am doing OK but sure miss them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just like I am missing you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank goodness that we had such fun growing up as "THE ROSS GIRLS" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank Mama And Daddy for that when you see them and give them My biggest bear hug! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know the bear hug PJ...The one you hated to get from me! Ha  Also tell Daddy that his little Porky Pig is wishing she could hand him one more tool as he worked on  cars in the back yard!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take care of them, Peggy and I know they are excited that their baby girl is coming home to them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1223287157438499952?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1223287157438499952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1223287157438499952' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1223287157438499952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1223287157438499952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2009/09/peggy-continues-to-disappear.html' title='PEGGY CONTINUES TO DISAPPEAR'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SrxNy3yNRxI/AAAAAAAAALI/qegZ0iNIQCM/s72-c/PEGGY+2009+SAD+PICTURE.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4787883281848643937</id><published>2009-04-03T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T21:02:46.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WATCHING IS NEVER OVER</title><content type='html'>It has been a long time since I have written about my journey with Peggy. So much has happened in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy is the same. Happy, content and smiling......but it seems that I may have to write another journal. It will be titled....&lt;br /&gt;Watching My Husband....Disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, Life is not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  Also Love You Today, John and  will until the 12Th of Never!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4787883281848643937?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4787883281848643937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4787883281848643937' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4787883281848643937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4787883281848643937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2009/04/watching-is-never-over.html' title='WATCHING IS NEVER OVER'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4560331723907269498</id><published>2009-01-25T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T17:36:52.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY ANNIVERSARY...Peggy &amp; R</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Peggy and her husbands wedding anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only...............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't remember getting married, her husband or how beautiful she looked in her wedding gown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't remember how excited she was or how lovely the church looked on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peggy's anniversary yesterday was just another moment in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never know what the future will bring or how it will change who we are or who we have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peggy and R  never realized on that joyous day 39 years ago that they would spend this special day with only........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them remembering their wedding day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they never dreamed that this special anniversary would be celebrated in a nursing home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;I will never stop missing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4560331723907269498?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4560331723907269498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4560331723907269498' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4560331723907269498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4560331723907269498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-anniversarypeggy-r.html' title='HAPPY ANNIVERSARY...Peggy &amp; R'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7261342053239995433</id><published>2008-12-21T19:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:56:33.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CHRISTMAS WRITINGS 2004</title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="4827507915360023637"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/gifts-tied-with-heart-strings.html"&gt;GIFTS...... TIED WITH HEART STRINGS&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of gift do you give someone who doesn't remember who you are or what you meant to one another?&lt;br /&gt;I struggled while thinking of a gift to give to Peggy this Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't want or need material things. She doesn't remember what a gift is any longer. She doesn't remember Christmas or me.&lt;br /&gt;So,  after a lot of thought, I decided to give her gifts that are .....Tied with Heart Strings!&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of my laughter.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of my time.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of my remembrances.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of my care.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of my love.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of pictures.... from our past as Sister's.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her the gift of my voice every day.&lt;br /&gt;I will give her gifts that cost no money and are not material in any way because Christmas is a time for gifts from the heart.&lt;br /&gt;The best Christmas gifts are always tied with Heart Strings!&lt;br /&gt;I remember when my children were small and they gave me gifts tied with heartstrings!&lt;br /&gt;They had pride and joy on their faces as they presented their gifts to me.&lt;br /&gt;A hand drawn picture.&lt;br /&gt; A figure molded from clay.&lt;br /&gt; A hand sewn apron.&lt;br /&gt;A toy Raccoon glued to a wooden spoon.&lt;br /&gt;I especially loved the wad of masking tape that was covered in sparkles!&lt;br /&gt;My heart sang when I received those gifts from my children's hands on Christmas' long ago.&lt;br /&gt;So now, I must think of gifts to give my Sister, who is a small child again in many ways and needs........&lt;br /&gt;ONLY GIFT'S TIED WITH HEART STRINGS!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I love you Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Mary Louise at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" title="permanent link" href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/gifts-tied-with-heart-strings.html" rel="bookmark"&gt;8:14 PM&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="comment-link" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=4827507915360023637"&gt;4 comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a title="Edit Post" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=4827507915360023637"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, December 21, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="3006815363336377077"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/becomming-real.html"&gt;BECOMMING REAL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite books is "The Velveteen Rabbit" by Margery Williams. &lt;br /&gt;The Velveteen Rabbit is a book about becoming REAL!   &lt;br /&gt;A little boy received a stuffed rabbit for christmas.The rabbit was beautiful, his coat was spotted with brown and white. He had thread whiskers and his ears were lined with pink sateen.&lt;br /&gt;The little boy fell in love with his rabbit. One day, the Rabbit asked the Skin Horse, the oldest toy in the nursery, What is REAL?  &lt;br /&gt;The Skin Horse replied..REAL isn't how you are made!         It is a thing that happens to you. It happens when someone loves you for a long time, not just to play with but really loves you!&lt;br /&gt;Then, said the skin horse, you become Real!&lt;br /&gt;The rabbit didn't notice, as years went by, that his velveteen fur was getting shabby and his tail had become un sewn or that the pink of his nose had been kissed off, his whiskers had been loved off and the pink sateen of his ears had turned gray.&lt;br /&gt;The boy thought his rabbit was still beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;His rabbit had become REAL and when you are real...&lt;br /&gt;Shabbiness doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;A Loved one is forever real and beautiful.  &lt;br /&gt;Peggy has changed but she is still beautiful to me!            She is my velveteen rabbit!&lt;br /&gt;She is teaching me to be real in my everyday life.&lt;br /&gt;It is difficult to be real while I watch Peggy disappear but her disappearance is helping me to emerge.   &lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy.  &lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas 2004    &lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Mary Louise at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" title="permanent link" href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/becomming-real.html" rel="bookmark"&gt;10:23 AM&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="comment-link" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=3006815363336377077"&gt;2 comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a title="Edit Post" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=3006815363336377077"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, December 20, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="4555227902493878932"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/missing-part-of-my-heart.html"&gt;MISSING A PART OF MY HEART&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mother had five children.&lt;br /&gt;I was the first to move far away from Alabama and home. I'll never forget my first Thanksgiving away from home and family.&lt;br /&gt;Later, Mother told me that there were 5 parts to her heart and a part of her heart was missing on that Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;Being young, I thought..Motherrrr, you had everyone else there!&lt;br /&gt;It took age and gained wisdom to know exactly what she meant when she made that statement.&lt;br /&gt;This Christmas, even though I have everyone that I love around me.........&lt;br /&gt;A Part of my Heart is missing.&lt;br /&gt;It is the place where Peggy used to live and bring joy, laughter and crazy, funny presents. Like the "chicken" that we would send to one another in our Sister gifts.                                                           No one knew from year to year who would get "The Ugly Chicken".&lt;br /&gt;I really miss the chicken!            &lt;br /&gt;No one has gotten it in several years and so it must have been a gift to Peggy the last Christmas that she remembered.&lt;br /&gt;The Chicken stopped with Peggy. Just like so many other things stopped when Peggy forgot how to remember.&lt;br /&gt;This is how Alzheimer's disease is especially vicious. The person that is missing in my heart this Christmas is still alive.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy just doesn't remember Christmas....&lt;br /&gt;And she doesn't remember...Me!&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;Sending you my Christmas Memories of "The Chicken"...with love!&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Mary Louise at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" title="permanent link" href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/missing-part-of-my-heart.html" rel="bookmark"&gt;11:37 AM&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="comment-link" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=4555227902493878932"&gt;2 comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a title="Edit Post" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=4555227902493878932"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, December 16, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="3566090147800745520"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/velvet-shoes.html"&gt;THE VELVET SHOES&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is always difficult to call Peggy and hear the flat sound of no remembrance.&lt;br /&gt; It is especially difficult during the Christmas season because I remember so much. I remember all of our Christmas times and cannot give the gift of those memories to her.&lt;br /&gt;If I could give Peggy one gift this Christmas it would be a pair of  velvet shoes.&lt;br /&gt;She could put the shoes on her feet and hear the crunching of the snow as she walked back to her memories.&lt;br /&gt;The velvet shoes would leave a path of footprints in the snow that could would lead her back home again, back to the place where her memories are waiting for her.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the memories of................&lt;br /&gt;Christmas and back to the memories of love.&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Mary Louise at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" title="permanent link" href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/velvet-shoes.html" rel="bookmark"&gt;7:26 AM&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="comment-link" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=3566090147800745520"&gt;6 comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a title="Edit Post" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=3566090147800745520"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, December 10, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="7924491999530202547"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/memory-place-store.html"&gt;THE MEMORY PLACE STORE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been shopping for Christmas and searching for the perfect gifts for those I love.&lt;br /&gt; I walked through the stores at the mall and looked at all the wonderful gifts that I could buy. I took my time because these will be special gifts that will be opened on Christmas morning.&lt;br /&gt;While shopping, I thought about a store that I wish existed in our mall.&lt;br /&gt;It would be called "The Memory Place Store".&lt;br /&gt;I could go in this shop and buy my gifts for Peggy for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;I could stroll down the isles of the Memory Place Store and buy all of her memories back, wrap them and give them to her this Christmas morning.&lt;br /&gt;On Christmas morning, under her Christmas tree, there would be colorful boxes, decorated with bows and glitter and signed, Love, Mary Louise.&lt;br /&gt;She could open the boxes one at a time and each would contain a group of the memories that she has forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;One box would have all the stories of her childhood. Just by opening the box, her childhood memories would flood back into her brain as she sipped the coffee that she loved.&lt;br /&gt;Next, she could open the gift box containing all of the memories of her teen years. She would carefully take them from the box and drape them around her neck and in a flash, all of those memories would be hers again on this special Christmas day.&lt;br /&gt; Then, she would open the next three boxes. Those boxes would have the memories of her 20's, 30's and 40's wrapped in white tissue paper. She would open the boxes one at a time and have all of those memories drift back into her mind while sitting in the light of her shining, twinkling Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;The next gift box would contain the memories of her husband, her marriage and of her children. What joy would shine from her face as she looked at them lying in the box and she could remember all of the times they spent together. She would throw the contents of the box into the air and let the memories rain down on her and bask in the glow of their love and remember each of them once again.&lt;br /&gt;The last gift box would hold the memories of our parents, her sisters and her brother. She would smile and hold the box to her heart and remember the love that we all shared. She could take each memory out and hold it in her hands. She could throw the memories around like balls, bouncing them from the floor to the ceilings while laughing.&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes would be shining and brimming with tears because she could remember her life and the love that was shared at Christmas time and the rest of the year.&lt;br /&gt;On this special Christmas morning...The morning of miracles, Peggy could have a miracle for one day.&lt;br /&gt;For this one special Christmas Day, Peggy would get 7 beautiful boxes containing gifts of the remembrances of her life.&lt;br /&gt;She would open all of "The Memory Place Store" gifts that were carefully wrapped in beautiful paper and colorful bows.&lt;br /&gt;She could unwrap her past and present and remember.&lt;br /&gt;She would have one day to remember what it is like to love and be loved.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy would know on Christmas day morning that even though her life is disappearing...&lt;br /&gt;My love for her will never disappear! We gave one another the gift of our love for many Christmases.&lt;br /&gt;Just because she cannot remember.... doesn't mean that I will forget!&lt;br /&gt;Life may end but Love doesn't!&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today!&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Mary Louise at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" title="permanent link" href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/memory-place-store.html" rel="bookmark"&gt;11:31 AM&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="comment-link" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=7924491999530202547"&gt;2 comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a title="Edit Post" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=7924491999530202547"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, December 7, 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="1104800926618722053"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-and-peggy.html"&gt;CHRISTMAS AND PEGGY&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Peggy so much at this time of year.&lt;br /&gt;She loved everything about this season.&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling sorry for myself while out shopping for gifts today.&lt;br /&gt;I found a present that was meant for Peggy. I picked it up and for a flash of a second I thought, I will get this for Peggy.&lt;br /&gt;Then reality covered me and I put the gift back with tears in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt; I was feeling sad that Peggy will never celebrate Christmas again.    I was sad because she doesn't even know what Christmas is, what gifts are or why we celebrate this season.&lt;br /&gt;I was sad because she will miss the joy of this season...&lt;br /&gt;Then, it dawned on me that my sadness was just for me! &lt;br /&gt;Peggy doesn't remember anything about Christmas or the season so.....&lt;br /&gt; How can she miss it?&lt;br /&gt;Peggy doesn't remember or miss this season....But&lt;br /&gt;I remember....  I can remember all of the Christmases, all of the joy, all of the gifts and all of the fun during the December's in our past.&lt;br /&gt;Memories of  Christmas are a great gift and they warm my thoughts and make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy doesn't remember Christmas or have any memories of her past as she disappears from Alzheimer's...&lt;br /&gt;So Maybe,  just maybe...this is a gift from Alzheimer's disease.&lt;br /&gt; Peggy can't be sad and miss Christmas when she doesn't remember it and what it was to us...............&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't remember Mother and Daddy and how much they loved Christmas. She doesn't remember the 24th of December at 1805 St. Charles Court. She doesn't remember the night gowns we all wore every Christmas Eve.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy doesn't remember what she is missing this Christmas season. I have to remind myself of that fact.&lt;br /&gt;I have to remind myself that my sadness during this season belongs to me and not to her.&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful that she is not sad about missing Christmas again this year.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy can't be sad over a season that.....&lt;br /&gt;She doesn't remember.&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas 2004!&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Mary Louise at &lt;a class="timestamp-link" title="permanent link" href="http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2004/12/christmas-and-peggy.html" rel="bookmark"&gt;12:52 PM&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="comment-link" onclick="" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=1104800926618722053"&gt;5 comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a title="Edit Post" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;amp;postID=1104800926618722053"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, December 6, 2004&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7261342053239995433?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7261342053239995433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7261342053239995433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7261342053239995433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7261342053239995433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-writings-2004.html' title='CHRISTMAS WRITINGS 2004'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4518802825310428615</id><published>2008-12-09T21:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T22:15:00.593-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><title type='text'>Missing the Peggy that I used to know</title><content type='html'>Snowman and photo by...Wendy Ivins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/ST9atPVFD_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/zjYRApUI0QM/s1600-h/ALABAMA+SNOWMAN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278037021557067762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/ST9atPVFD_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/zjYRApUI0QM/s400/ALABAMA+SNOWMAN.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a picture of an Alabama Snowman. People in Northern States think that is is pitiful. But in Alabama a inch of snow is wondrous. Hours are spent scraping the little bits of snow into this beautiful snowman. This is an Alabama work of winter beauty......for my sister....Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It feels odd to not have you in my life...like you used to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really miss you at Christmas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is a part of me that can never be the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel, out there on my own in many ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also am aware of the anger that feel that you went away, even though you couldn't help it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were sisters, friends, confidants and now... nothing from you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can never be sure if you are OK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never be sure if you even knew that we were sisters and friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is not fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But life has a way of not being fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so glad that I can remember!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Christmas gift to you again this year.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is only a faint memory of the Ross family and how much we all loved the Christmas season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merry Christmas, Peggy!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all remember you....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is a Christmas blessing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merry Christmas...2008!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remembering all the Christmas Past that we shared!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4518802825310428615?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4518802825310428615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4518802825310428615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4518802825310428615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4518802825310428615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/12/missing-peggy-that-i-used-to-know.html' title='Missing the Peggy that I used to know'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/ST9atPVFD_I/AAAAAAAAAIo/zjYRApUI0QM/s72-c/ALABAMA+SNOWMAN.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5344431283755397876</id><published>2008-11-13T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T11:46:52.367-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WATCHING MY SISTER...DISAPPEAR'/><title type='text'>Peggy Today</title><content type='html'>Peggy is still losing weight. She eats well, her husband says but is in constant motion.&lt;br /&gt;She walks all over the nursing home every day and seems in a hurry. I wonder where she thinks she is going? I wonder if she ever thinks that she gets there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say that this disease is unfair is an understatement. How could a healthy, athletic, active person like P.J.  develop this disease in her late 40's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saving grace for our family is that Peggy seems happy and smiles a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her husband has been a rock for Peggy and our family. When, on their wedding day he uttered the words; For better and worse, he could have never imagined what would happen in his marriage.&lt;br /&gt;Peggy loved him so much and somewhere in her soul,  she still does...even though she has forgotten who he is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never stop missing my sister. The sister that I grew up with, shared my heart and secrets with, looked up to and admired.&lt;br /&gt;She is still that person but her shell makes it harder and harder to remember. She is different from the person that I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am different too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our journey through life makes us all different in many ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a time in my life when I knew all the answers, I even knew all the questions. I knew how to fix things in my life and in everyone else's life.&lt;br /&gt;I was outspoken and sure of myself.&lt;br /&gt;My journey thus far has tempered me and softened me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blessed because I can remember. Peggy is blessed because she is happy and doesn't seem to mind that she can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holiday's bring a flood of memories of Thanksgivings and Christmases&lt;br /&gt;past. The holiday's bring excitement and thinking of the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peggy has neither as the holidays approach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But....&lt;br /&gt;She is safe, happy and loved with or without her memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will just have to remember for both of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;I miss you always!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5344431283755397876?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5344431283755397876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5344431283755397876' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5344431283755397876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5344431283755397876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/11/peggy-today.html' title='Peggy Today'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1684684497065573110</id><published>2008-10-12T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T10:55:03.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WATCHING MY SISTER ON BLOGSPOT</title><content type='html'>I have moved my journal about Peggy to this site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you will continue to read my thoughts and comment. It has helped me on this journey more than any of you will ever know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SPI3XgsQgyI/AAAAAAAAAII/v8Wb2HpqQr8/s1600-h/Year+Book++1996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256324592146875170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SPI3XgsQgyI/AAAAAAAAAII/v8Wb2HpqQr8/s400/Year+Book++1996.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always said that Peggy and I looked so much alike that we could be twins. I must admit that I thought we looked somewhat alike but not like twins until.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited a site called yearbook.com and put my face on a hairstyle that PJ always wore.&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked!!!! When I saw the picture above, I thought it was Peggy but it is me with her hairstyle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You today, Peggy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Louise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1684684497065573110?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1684684497065573110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1684684497065573110' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1684684497065573110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1684684497065573110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/10/watching-my-sister-on-blogspot.html' title='WATCHING MY SISTER ON BLOGSPOT'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SPI3XgsQgyI/AAAAAAAAAII/v8Wb2HpqQr8/s72-c/Year+Book++1996.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5057703295222028000</id><published>2008-10-06T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AOL CLOSING JOURNAL SITE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;PEGGY SAYING...GOODBYE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=49d0MpfHHYTeyZyEYFr0C3E5W7SimL5NHUoZ"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter03.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/03/00A/1C/AC/F8/BD/YGKF6SwEQPOXBu0uW0ehww259qujaK0q0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I was informed on September &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;30th&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; by AOL &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;that they will be&amp;nbsp;closing down their journal site.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Every one who has been writing journals on this&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;AOL site is very sad.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We have until October &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;31st&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; to transfer all the &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;contents of our journals to another site or lose them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My first entry about watching Peggy disappear was on October 30, 2003.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=ifrm style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;IFRAME id=picView style="BORDER-RIGHT: black 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: black 1px solid; VISIBILITY: visible; BORDER-LEFT: black 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: black 1px solid" name=picView src="http://aolsvc.pictures.aol.com/NASApp/ygp/Blogs/MiniView?ygpExternalId=1omXNDLaQAKZw8m%2FXoBhkW0LPJRTSfgHiSXTV%2BcOfYY%3D&amp;amp;styleUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fjournals.aol.com%2FLocale%2F2.0.17%2Fen.aol.US%2Fcss%2Fygp_miniview.css&amp;amp;blogId=mlrhjeh%2FWatchingMySisterDisappear&amp;amp;currTime=1223348881673" width=294 scrolling=no height=280&gt;&lt;/IFRAME&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;MY FIRST ENTRY.......&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;P&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;J&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. ( left)&amp;nbsp;is dying from Alzheimer's Disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We were always very close.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is so very hard to see her disappearing before my eyes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;call her every morning and have since she was diagnosed 2 years ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is slipping away fast and now calls me "Aunt Louise."&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I struggle with losing her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss her more than I can write.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Only people who have experienced this living death &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;can understand what I am feeling.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am saying goodbye to her every day and &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I always say before I hang up...I Love you, Today &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;P&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;J&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&amp;nbsp;and she will say...I love you too but&amp;nbsp;she can't remember my name.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you. I miss you today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;P&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;J&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;...My Sister...My Friend!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This was one of the first comments I &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;received&lt;/SPAN&gt; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;and this comment helped me to keep writing and&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;to express my grief with words.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;COMMENTS:&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV class=commentText&gt;H&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;i&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; Mary Louise,&lt;BR/&gt;In all honesty, I had to find the courage within myself to get past the title of your journal before I could read it. My dad lost his youngest brother to this terrible disease it was devastating to say the least. The reason I needed courage to read your journal is because I watched my youngest sister disappear to cancer. We lost her 15 months ago, her funeral was on her &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;44th&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; birthday. I hope you don't mind if I read your journal from the beginning and go forward to the present time because I feel that is the only way you get to know someone better. I do not have a journal but my daughter does and introduced me to journals after I lost my &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;lil&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; sis. I must say it has helped me through the grief one day at a time.&lt;BR/&gt;Debbie&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV class=commentText&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;Did you ever hear that saying " I complained I had no shoes, until I met a man with no feet?" Sometimes my days seem so hard because I have a child with &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Tourettes&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; Syndrome. Its not drastic or life threatening but it still drains my heart and soul. My heart goes out to you and your family. I have no shoes but you have no feet. I will say a prayer for your sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV class=commentText&gt;I know what &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;y&lt;/SPAN&gt;our going th&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;r&lt;/SPAN&gt;u...My dad is slowing disappearing too. &amp;nbsp;It i &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;so&lt;/SPAN&gt; sad to see. &amp;nbsp;Just hang in there and be strong she is going to heaven!!!&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV class=commentText&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV class=commentText&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV class=commentText&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;Louise,&lt;BR/&gt;Very touching commentary. I would not have recognized Peggy. But I have not seen her in decades I suppose.&lt;BR/&gt;this &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;blog&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; is a good idea.&lt;BR/&gt;thanks for sharing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise,&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;I know it must be very hard dealing with &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/SPAN&gt; and &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;losing&lt;/SPAN&gt; your baby sister. I know it would crush me if I lost my sister. You have been strong and brave to write the journal and share your experience with others.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;I am proud of you. I am praying for you, &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;PJ&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;, her family and your other sisters.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;God be with you all.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;........................................................................................................................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;These were the words from people who read that first entry and gave me the strength and courage to keep writing even though it was painful.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Writing this journal about Peggy has been&amp;nbsp;life saving experience&amp;nbsp;for me. Having so many&amp;nbsp;people comment and send prayers has saved me in many ways.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;To date....66,165 people have taken the time to write a comment&amp;nbsp;or read this journal.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will be forever grateful for the help and comfort this has provided.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hope before the dead line of October &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;31st&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;, I will have a new journal home and will give interested readers the address.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If I decide to stop writing about Watching.....I will say...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I THANK ALL OF YOU AND GOODBYE!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Goodbye from my sister....Peggy and from me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy and always will remember our lives as sisters before Alzheimer's/Picks &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;disease&lt;/SPAN&gt; took you away from all who love you!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a 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href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-C94dzFaj4fr*v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/008/07/60/6F/34/GY-6BdtRtm0j0D9kRvY1fhXMOASsLl3n0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-C69pLXEWLuQMv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/003/77/DE/B1/D3/+Si2gKnxxLJmpsLxHKePhnrR4veegdXF0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-Cz4VullXS3z7v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/009/27/88/92/B7/4M2Sv6wYXKcLnA85iqfloWL-dIduynhy0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-CwwNXN6nav51v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/006/70/AE/5A/3C/ZTjP1eRX1Fd37ifVGOY2LwNse6E3tKbY010A.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-C7yd-Vb29Y00v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/002/49/3A/5D/2F/GgzofKumAGeqDZEPyEa44YqSo-bXwuC00180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-C17PQTdJb6yHv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/002/62/9B/BD/9A/qWopNUpHBc3cGLTWDv0NOg60F+I2PPeM0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-Cw3Sa3c6ySfKv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/00B/30/EB/58/69/8v2lXyECMbQ6tSoJWaHaq6WYiCSOuy8+0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=30307rQHMY0*8xbaHUHJUAL-Cz8eu5oPzwMqv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/008/3A/A2/40/34/1OceWoD2qwFb+H1fzEtG-M7KLgU5kGgY0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;LIFE IS GOOD.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I MISS YOU TODAY, PEGGY AND I ALWAYS WILL!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5057703295222028000?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5057703295222028000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5057703295222028000' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5057703295222028000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5057703295222028000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/10/aol-closing-journal-site.html' title='AOL CLOSING JOURNAL SITE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2103336347773507031</id><published>2008-09-06T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HURRICANE WARNING</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Hurricane Hanna&amp;nbsp;swept up the East Coast yesterday. It brought wind and rain to thousands. People were afraid and hurried to get out of the path of the storm.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy was in it's path&amp;nbsp;but she couldn't get away.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=5600sMVW36v0AIm09fu2hytS9bW0Val3CTCjv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/03/00D/58/30/8C/99/CuMl-bdzAguTgu1Y8oLTOobrhbYsQHWj0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I think that&amp;nbsp;a hurricane is &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;similar&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; to &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;/Pick's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;First, there is only the threat of the storm that is&amp;nbsp;heading for&amp;nbsp;the mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There are warnings and&amp;nbsp;red flags go up.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As the storm progresses toward the mind, family and friends brace for the worst and hope for the best.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When the &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;storm&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; of the mind hits, it is &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;devastating&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; and there is total destruction.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Destruction that cannot be reversed or fixed.... by the &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;government&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;, by&amp;nbsp;family or friends.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Hurricane Hanna has moved along. The sky has cleared along the Carolina coast. The sun is shining, the sky returned to Carolina blue............ except&amp;nbsp;in one place.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;forecast&lt;/SPAN&gt; is gloomy, the dark clouds are thick. The wind continues to swirl and the destruction is &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;permanent&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy's mind is damaged but she continues to live in the calm eye of the storm.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Calm&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;what this sister prays for her baby sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I pray every day that&amp;nbsp;Peggy will always live in the calm while the storm rages around her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=bae0AgsWrvJkr*XblsqNLKog4iAWlZdGqz4Av4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/00F/59/29/28/4D/mGVJ6AlaOl75qhCNEu3fXy0V9oZJvDIh0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you always!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_4" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_4&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2103336347773507031?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2103336347773507031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2103336347773507031' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2103336347773507031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2103336347773507031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/09/hurricane-warning.html' title='HURRICANE WARNING'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6372620754204182359</id><published>2008-08-11T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Peggy</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I don't think that I will ever get over missing the Peggy that I grew up with...The Peggy that I knew.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is doing as well as she can at this stage of the disease. She has lost some of the weight that she had gained and is walking &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;a lot&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her husband said that she is looking like the old Peggy but with one thing still gone forever....Her memory.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is smiling but no one knows why.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's disease is a strange prison. No one is paroled or set free.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No one who loves them is ever set free because we remember who they were.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Who They Were....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When they were not in prison. Who they were when they were not locked up against their will and&amp;nbsp;not &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;sentenced&lt;/SPAN&gt; to a life of&amp;nbsp;forgotten memories.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But then again......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If they do not carry the burdens of remembering the sad times, the lonely times,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;the empty times and only&amp;nbsp;know the moment...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The wonderful, happy and joyous times would also be forgotten.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One can't &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;exist&lt;/SPAN&gt; without the other.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember so many good times and so many bad times...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;grateful&lt;/SPAN&gt; because it means that I do not have &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But it does mean that Peggy, my sister, my friend does not remember who I am.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember and sometimes......It hurts....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Especially when I remember Peggy and wish that she remembered me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life can be a strange teacher and I have learned&amp;nbsp; much about myself because Peggy became another Alzheimer's disease &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;statistic.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=21f0kE2TrAGylXucp*lF3glZlrhc-2qaAElJv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/036/51/1A/F5/DF/P56JC3xSfJtVxYpoUdmuXMPy9-rw8NN80060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;I&amp;nbsp;Love You Today, Peggy!&amp;nbsp; I miss you!&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_1" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_1&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6372620754204182359?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6372620754204182359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6372620754204182359' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6372620754204182359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6372620754204182359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/08/missing-peggy.html' title='Missing Peggy'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5119218096370526074</id><published>2008-06-25T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RUNNING THROUGH THE RAIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV class=Section1&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;P class=MsoNormal&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;SPAN style="FONT-SIZE: 24pt; COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'"&gt;RUNNING THROUGH THE RAIN&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=MsoNormal&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;SPAN style="FONT-SIZE: 24pt; COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'"&gt;(author unknown)&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=MsoNormal&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;SPAN style="FONT-SIZE: 24pt; COLOR: black; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'"&gt;A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Target.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in 'Mom let's run through the rain,' she said .&lt;BR/&gt;'What?' Mom asked.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;'Lets run through the rain!' She repeated&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;'No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit,' Mom replied.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;This young child waited about another minute and repeated: 'Mom, let's run through the rain,'&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;'We'll get soaked if we do,' Mom said.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;'No, we won't, Mom.. That's not what you said this morning,' the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;'Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!'&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.&lt;BR/&gt;Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;'Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, wellmaybe we just needed washing,' Mom said.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories...So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.&lt;BR/&gt;I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;I LOVE YOU TODAY, PEGGY.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;AND I AM STILL RUNNING IN THE RAIN!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;MARY LOUISE&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=9c20ulFbWRZ7FFuhmYfx9*T1nsZUbH3hdNUCv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/03/007/54/CC/32/5F/86LPJmWMNiLmid8H8-uHzHnTrG2klylu0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=9c20ulFbWRZ7FFuhmYfx9*T1nsZUbH3hdNUCv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/03/007/54/CC/32/5F/86LPJmWMNiLmid8H8-uHzHnTrG2klylu0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_2" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_2&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5119218096370526074?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5119218096370526074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5119218096370526074' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5119218096370526074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5119218096370526074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/06/running-through-rain.html' title='RUNNING THROUGH THE RAIN'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1742724148331308981</id><published>2008-06-11T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OUR ROOTS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy is losing weight and&amp;nbsp;she seems to be getting worse. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is falling and can't remember how to get up. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss my sister. I miss talking with her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;continuing&lt;/SPAN&gt; to disappear and there is nothing&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;that I can do to slow it down.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Nothing that I can do to stop the progression of her disappearance.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I only can pray for her comfort. I can only pray that somewhere in her being...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She remembers that I love her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;( author unknown)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WE ARE LIKE THE LIMBS OF A TREE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WE GROW IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS YET.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;OUR ROOTS REMAIN AS ONE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;EACH OF OUR LIVES WILL ALWAYS BE.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A SPECIAL PART OF THE OTHER.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you, &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;P.J&lt;/SPAN&gt;!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How I wish that I could talk with you and tell you all &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;that&amp;nbsp;has been going on in my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How I wish that you could tell me what has been going on in your life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wish we could talk like we used to and figure out things.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss your humor.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss your wit.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss your laughter.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss your &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;counsel&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you, Peggy because our roots are one and we will&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;always be a special part of the other.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO0582gePqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/X8V5BvnUXIs/s1600-R/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxopI*Nfa4ghsv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm"/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljpictureUpload" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljpictureUpload&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljpictureUpload_1" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljpictureUpload_1&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1742724148331308981?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1742724148331308981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1742724148331308981' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1742724148331308981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1742724148331308981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/06/our-roots.html' title='OUR ROOTS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO0582gePqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/X8V5BvnUXIs/s72-Rc/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxopI*Nfa4ghsv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7369098794726654317</id><published>2008-05-22T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LIFE FORCE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO059HQNteI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EJCjMQ6ud2o/s1600-R/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxixXim7n-2*Jv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm"/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; My Mother was a life force. A wonderful mother and friend as&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I grew into adultho&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;od&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When she died, I was &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;devastated&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; but she taught all &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;of&lt;/SPAN&gt; us to go&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;on and live life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember seeing her after she had died. I sto&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;od&lt;/SPAN&gt; there and looked &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;at the woman who birthed me, taught and guided me. Sometimes, with&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;a very stern hand. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She never had to hit. All she needed to do&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;was give the "ugly mother look". &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I looked at&amp;nbsp;Mother as she lay dead and realized her life force was gone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There was nothing there but the body of my mother.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Death had taken her spark, her light, her life force.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought about Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her body is also still&amp;nbsp;there&amp;nbsp;and she has only.... &amp;nbsp;&lt;U&gt;forgotten.&lt;/U&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;STRONG&gt;&lt;U&gt;Her spark, her light and her life force.&lt;/U&gt;&lt;/STRONG&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;That's&lt;/SPAN&gt; what having &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/SPAN&gt; disease does.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It &lt;U&gt;STEALS..............&lt;/U&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7369098794726654317?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7369098794726654317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7369098794726654317' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7369098794726654317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7369098794726654317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/05/life-force.html' title='LIFE FORCE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO059HQNteI/AAAAAAAAAAU/EJCjMQ6ud2o/s72-Rc/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxixXim7n-2*Jv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-769474271432816307</id><published>2008-04-30T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HEART CATH'S AND BIRTHDAYS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Hey Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The heart &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;cath&lt;/SPAN&gt; was last Tuesday and I got very good news.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Everything is clear and I am fine. I sure was scared!!!!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I knew that you were with me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=08d0M9bnyA2Na3VYaerKuuUJiKPHDqC*PrZ5v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter03.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/07/008/7F/FF/5D/2A/b6np0hwwdjqwiMGsqGsMITZG88ytNQPe0064.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Thanks!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Today was my birthday. I thought about you today and the birthday calls we shared over the years.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What a birthday gift it would have been to pick up the phone and hear you singing Happy Birthday to You........Happy Birthday to You....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What a gift it would have been to hear your voice again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Those gifts of birthdays past are gone but my memory is a gift that you do not&amp;nbsp;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;possess&lt;/SPAN&gt; any longer.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It may sound a little strange but I did hear your birthday wishes to me today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;They rushed over me like a wave on the ocean.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Memory is a beautiful, cherished gift.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You taught me that, Peggy. Thank you for the beautiful gift!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_1" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_1&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-769474271432816307?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/769474271432816307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=769474271432816307' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/769474271432816307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/769474271432816307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/04/heart-cath-and-birthdays.html' title='HEART CATH&amp;#39;S AND BIRTHDAYS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-850883299570992576</id><published>2008-04-20T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEMORY AND THE HEART</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Dear Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am going into the hospital on Tuesday morning.&amp;nbsp; How I wish that&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could talk with you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The sound of your voice and the way you reassured me in times of&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;uncertainty&lt;/SPAN&gt; is something that cannot be replaced.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will have a&amp;nbsp;Cardiac &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;catheterization&lt;/SPAN&gt;. It is a test&amp;nbsp;to see if my heart is functioning properly&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;and if all my arteries are open.&amp;nbsp; I am scared, Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Years ago, I could have called you and you would have come to be here with me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will miss having you here but I am thankful for my husband and family who&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;will be here.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will miss knowing you are here. I will miss knowing that you care.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will miss knowing that your prayers are mine but most of all..........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss knowing that you remember who I am.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know&amp;nbsp;that time, space, disease&amp;nbsp;or anything can erase our sister-hood and the depth of care that we&amp;nbsp;have always felt&amp;nbsp;for one another.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Somewhere, inside of your mind is a little place that remembers...Mary Louise and how &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;frightened&lt;/SPAN&gt; she can get at times.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Somewhere inside of your mind is a small place that will be thinking of me on Tuesday morning. I just know it.................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In my heart!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=f0a0lwzLsD1LyhMmSLvYE1-VMniwPnqYwGQZv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/017/64/9E/D6/1C/jfYjVXzNMC7NXwWuxWmSyJBQvnECRKm80076.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_2" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_2&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-850883299570992576?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/850883299570992576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=850883299570992576' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/850883299570992576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/850883299570992576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/04/memory-and-heart.html' title='MEMORY AND THE HEART'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8389390336730610609</id><published>2008-03-29T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NUMBNESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;My silence&amp;nbsp;has not meant that I don't still have&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;a lot to say.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=3e5076r7E2QLB7kM9mrBsuavI6TnC*oOk7D0v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/02/019/14/C4/AF/6D/L+osIUatnL-r6KwfFirfl6xG2ipNmKY90091.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;It means that sometimes there are just no words left to&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;describe what it is like to watch someone you&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;love disappear.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;Alzheimer's disease&amp;nbsp;not only numbs the mind of&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;the person who is afflicted with the disease......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;It numbs the minds of those who watch.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;For years, I thought that a cure or break through was just months or years away.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;There have been bright spots in research and I still have hope for Peggy. But that hope is starting to feel some numbness.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I don't&amp;nbsp;visit the early&amp;nbsp;stage of the disease as it took over her mind as often as I did before. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;If I go there, I visit for a short while......I remember her frustration, her fear,&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;her questioning.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I will never forget the morning&amp;nbsp;that she called, &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;hesitated&lt;/SPAN&gt;&amp;nbsp;and finally&amp;nbsp;asked the name of the white stuff that you put on cereal. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I thought she was joking but realized that she was serious and was to embarrassed to ask her husband.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;We shared many calls like that one as she began to forget.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;She finally did forget but I have all of those painful calls stored in my memory.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;We talked several times a day for years and then &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;one day, the phone didn't ring and there were no more &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;calls from my sister.....ever again.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;She had forgotten how to use the telephone.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;Sometimes, numbness would be welcomed&amp;nbsp;as I think of Peggy and her decent into this disease of the mind.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;As long as I continue to remember, I will remember my athletic, active and&amp;nbsp;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;intelligent&lt;/SPAN&gt; sister.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I will remember the way she was before she began to disappear, before her mind was frozen into numbness.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;Some people make the world special just by being in it.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;Peggy is one of those people who remain special... Even in numbness.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=21f0kE2TrAGylXucp*lF3glZlrhc-2qaAElJv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/036/51/1A/F5/DF/P56JC3xSfJtVxYpoUdmuXMPy9-rw8NN80060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_2" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_2&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8389390336730610609?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8389390336730610609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8389390336730610609' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8389390336730610609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8389390336730610609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/03/numbness.html' title='NUMBNESS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5570708413566080938</id><published>2008-03-11T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 YEARS OF WATCHING</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy is about the same. A little worse in mood swings but eating and walking.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her husband called while he was visiting with her last week and I heard her whisper something in the phone to me. I wish I could&amp;nbsp; have understood what she was saying. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But at least, I got to hear her voice. That is a rare &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;occurrence&lt;/SPAN&gt; now.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I kept telling her that I loved her today and he said she got a huge smile on her face.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Amy &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Li&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; said; Having a sister is like having a best friend that you can't get rid of. You always know whatever you do, they'll still be there.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There was a time when I thought that was a true statement....Until.......................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I started Watching My Sister Disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=6020CHmnq08fNxt2qx7tAHkd3uzE0AvZWaN9v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter10.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/006/14/48/81/56/uK+FNNJK9sb+cIRuTcirQU4cUiBXRjIn0060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;PEGGY, MARY LOUISE, BETTY JEAN, BARBARA ANN&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; OUR DADDY&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_6" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_6&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5570708413566080938?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5570708413566080938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5570708413566080938' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5570708413566080938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5570708413566080938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/03/10-years-of-watching.html' title='10 YEARS OF WATCHING'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7047483180885864116</id><published>2008-02-19T22:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PEGGY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy had a birthday on February &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;13th&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mother always said she was her Valentine baby. She was our whole families Valentine.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought of her on her day and remembered all of the past birthdays that she was &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;privileged&lt;/SPAN&gt; to have and remember.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This one was a special birthday. A milestone birthday. Her husband took her a cake and had her blow out a candle.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;But to Peggy..........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was just another day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Another day of living with people in a nursing facility that she doesn't know.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Another year of having someone that she doesn't remember say........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Happy birthday, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Another day of trying to figure out what a birthday is......what a cake is...what a candle is.....and.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Who these people are!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love you Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Happy Birthday&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=9e20ttyGt6RnHyLy-88W*QkJaPuoNKhwzkjOv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/006/3C/CE/24/53/vlfK99JFl1LWdF8Af2IiJeI-Y9DmxCKO0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_2" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_2&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7047483180885864116?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7047483180885864116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7047483180885864116' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7047483180885864116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7047483180885864116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-birthday-peggy.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PEGGY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7875914823471068912</id><published>2008-02-11T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GRIEF OVER PEGGY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Grief is an on going process. You never get finished as I have realized.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I find myself back at the door of anger.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is gone but still here. Missing but present.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hate what this disease has done to my beautiful sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hate what this disease has done to me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, I feel numb when I think of Peggy and other times....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'd like to shake her and say...Wake up, stop it!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life keeps moving forward and I find myself right back at&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;another of the revolving stages of grief.....Anger.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is like living in the movie "Ground Hog Day".&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am glad you cannot know or feel how angry I am at you tonight, Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am just tired, tonight.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Tired of knowing you are there but you are not.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you today anyway, Sister.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=a860A4nfaLixhAamkb5PmQdyu8jyHzCrdHkhv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/005/60/5B/21/5F/5LenLLoLZ0JU3ZBV8A1vw10HVu8xda8j0060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_1" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_1&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7875914823471068912?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7875914823471068912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7875914823471068912' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7875914823471068912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7875914823471068912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/02/grief-over-peggy.html' title='GRIEF OVER PEGGY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-858080284577021971</id><published>2008-01-12T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Peggy</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;There is a lot going on in my world, Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How I wish that I could talk with you!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wonder what is going on in the world you live in and &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;if you wish you could talk with me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you tonight. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss being able to talk life over with you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am very thankful for the old times but.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We should have had "right now" too!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I send my prayers to surround you tonight.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I feel your prayers around me as I write.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you and your wisdom.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=7440dVuda5o27GceA2TbMe1u40NfY5KOzciqv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/007/05/F6/F3/12/UdX3m-k0z+CksVv9ts0XGTCFHfefRXNG0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_1" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_1&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-858080284577021971?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/858080284577021971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=858080284577021971' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/858080284577021971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/858080284577021971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/01/missing-peggy.html' title='Missing Peggy'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1201397249079452031</id><published>2008-01-05T14:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY TEACHER...MY SISTER</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;THE NEW YEAR OF 2008.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;ANOTHER YEAR OF DEALING WITH THE DISAPPEARANCE OF PEGGY.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;ANOTHER YEAR OF TRYING TO MAKE SOME&amp;nbsp;SENSE OF IT.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;ANOTHER YEAR OF WATCHING HER DISAPPEAR.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;ALL IS NEVER LOST OR FOR NOTHING..&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;MY, OH MY, WHAT I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT MYSELF AS&amp;nbsp;PEGGY CONTINUES HER LONG JOURNEY.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I HAVE&amp;nbsp;STUBBORNLY HELD ON&amp;nbsp;TO THE OLD PEGGY, NOT WANTING HER TO GO.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I HAVE PRAYED, CRIED AND REMEMBERED BUT SO FAR HER JOURNEY INTO ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE CONTINUES.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;SOMETIMES, WHAT WE WANT, IS NOT WHAT IS THE BEST FOR US.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;BECAUSE OF PEGGY'S JOURNEY, I AM A BETTER PERSON.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I HAVE LEARNED THAT HOLDING ON IS NOT ALWAYS THE KIND OR HEALTHY THING TO DO.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I WILL&amp;nbsp;KEEP HER CLOSE WITH OPEN HANDS NOW.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;PEGGY'S JOURNEY AND MINE WILL CONTINUE IN 2008.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;WHAT WILL I LEARN THIS NEW YEAR BECAUSE PEGGY CONTINUES TO DISAPPEAR?&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I HOPE THAT I WILL LEARN THAT&amp;nbsp;I AM NOT IN CONTROL...... NEVER HAVE BEEN AND NEVER WILL BE........I WILL LEARN TO LET GO. WHEN I HANG ON, I CANNOT GROW.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I&amp;nbsp;AM HERE TO LEARN, CHANGE AND GROW IN WAYS THAT I NEVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;AND PEGGY WILL CONTINUE TO BE MY TEACHER.&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=b480COaDv6y419El906BtrgrlNiJzFTJAUmxv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter05.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/07/007/6E/B9/91/B4/faSyIWgFXlX4uCL+o2cUGtufnCRhcTnR0064.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I LOVE YOU TODAY, PEGGY!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I MISS YOU.&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=ae10wOGc3M1jxtV9hb1-pNtAtMRPy4ZVlypdv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/02/02A/4F/A2/84/D7/yoCTg7vNzl3r7aJfMA4YEnQSta2LXrUn008D.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;MARY LOUISE&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_2" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_2&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1201397249079452031?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1201397249079452031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1201397249079452031' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1201397249079452031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1201397249079452031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-teachermy-sister.html' title='MY TEACHER...MY SISTER'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2380669339684357675</id><published>2007-12-22T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CHRISTMAS 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; MERRY CHRISTMAS,&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;PEGGY!!!!!&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=f0a0lwzLsD1LyhMmSLvYE1-VMniwPnqYwGQZv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/017/64/9E/D6/1C/jfYjVXzNMC7NXwWuxWmSyJBQvnECRKm80076.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;I MISS YOU AND YOUR SMILE.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;I MISS YOUR LAUGHTER.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;I MISS HAVING YOU IN MY LIFE AT CHRISTMAS.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;BUT I HAVE SO MUCH MORE THIS CHRISTMAS THAN YOU DO!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;I HAVE MY MEMORIES.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;WHEN YOU STARTED LOSING YOUR MEMORIES TO&amp;nbsp;ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE, I&amp;nbsp;REALIZED JUST HOW PRECIOUS MEMORIES ARE.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;YOU GAVE ME THE GIFT OF BEING IN MY LIFE FOR 40 YEARS.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;WHAT A WONDERFUL GIFT.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;HELEN KELLER SAID;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;THE BEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL GIFTS IN THE WORLD CANNOT BE SEEN OR EVEN TOUCHED.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;THEY MUST BE FELT WITH THE HEART......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;YOU ARE IN MY HEART THIS CHRISTMAS AND ALWAYS.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;WHAT MORE CAN A SISTER ASK!!!!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;I LOVE YOU TODAY, PEGGY!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THIS SIDE OF MEMORIES.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=da00Z-AxgQiSCtp1HH3mYYYLL6XsBI7hJckGv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/00A/25/31/77/61/qd9JoZaiO58ZzoGZXS1DOAHRkReqsp5M0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;PEGGY JANE&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff6666 size=7&gt;MARY LOUISE&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_2" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_2&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2380669339684357675?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2380669339684357675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2380669339684357675' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2380669339684357675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2380669339684357675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-2007.html' title='CHRISTMAS 2007'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3308767411595933773</id><published>2007-12-11T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>REMEMBERING CHRISTMAS..REMEMBERING PEGGY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Hey Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Christmas is always hard without you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We had some grand times growing up this time of year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If somewhere...somewhere in your soul, you remember Christmas at 1805 St Charles Court....I smile!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hope you remember the love of our family at Christmas.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Just a little part of it........ Any part of it.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We had such fun. So many laughs.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGMy0WpDjDXrv9v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/002/50/24/2B/01/DJvBKiPNoCQ3hW3NO-mKR0zS6+PKSvGA0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGMwi6OgCDrPVqv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/008/28/C9/32/43/CQKd2aoR3J3+r6O1MMrXNw4slkbTlBXS0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM4-lT1g9oSYAv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/008/07/60/6F/34/GY-6BdtRtm0j0D9kRvY1fhXMOASsLl3n0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM7qIZCZd4OEVv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/003/77/DE/B1/D3/+Si2gKnxxLJmpsLxHKePhnrR4veegdXF0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM0Y2fY0JtaOsv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter10.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/03/005/26/43/31/51/Wl0RxH-+b9GNrsUam4CJYDxzz4Dl5mRZ0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM7AgRiGbNi10v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter03.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/003/48/9D/30/DB/LIAmEwWbmTGFIzRaidTaOHBIzN6B90v20180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM1kPRIIZ2t*Wv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter10.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/009/41/6A/7E/52/DKxVaXc2nMYIKEZecgq8NHDeZLlmB3bb0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM5Lls-ONsqGcv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/003/3A/91/0E/D5/6soP-B0w3tP6AMOyaHl9MUaMNrJXlw5D0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d060uAVxuS52vm5dwsQcNTAGM79h0hXzpDVSv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/003/5B/3D/31/50/vA8kVjSg8CCs7TjCG5rIQ8ngTX0bTZ7V0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Daddy and Mother sitting in chairs. Daddy passing out the gifts.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Paper flying....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Laughter and &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;squeals&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Happy times together as a family!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Happy times together as Sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss those Christmases, Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss Mother and Daddy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;AND....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you........ At Christmas and always.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THIS SIDE OF CHRISTMAS&amp;nbsp;MEMORIES.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Wherever you are......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I send you my love.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Merry Christmas....2007!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_10" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_10&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3308767411595933773?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3308767411595933773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3308767411595933773' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3308767411595933773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3308767411595933773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/12/remembering-christmasremembering-peggy.html' title='REMEMBERING CHRISTMAS..REMEMBERING PEGGY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2092472517124334396</id><published>2007-12-06T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE "MEMORY PLACE" STORE</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV id=ifrm style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;PEGGY AND A CHRISTMAS PAST!&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=5fd07Q28M72O*9AHD1yiVj8UtfiLljF6cWc3v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/005/4B/3C/6A/00/g8xEMtE68Z9uHgTExn0U6+mfBdF1zw-j0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I WROTE THIS ENTRY LAST DECEMBER 13TH AND IT HOLDS TRUE TODAY.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;IF I COULD GIVE PEGGY ONE GIFT THIS CHRISTMAS...IT WOULD BE HER MEMORIES.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have been shopping for Christmas and searching for the&amp;nbsp;perfect gifts for those I love.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I walked through the stores at the mall and looked at all the wonderful gifts that I could buy. I took my time because these&amp;nbsp;will be special gifts,&amp;nbsp;opened&amp;nbsp;on Christmas morning.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;While shopping, I thought about a store that I wish existed in our mall.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It would be called "The Memory Place Store". &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could go in&amp;nbsp;this&amp;nbsp;shop and&amp;nbsp;buy my gifts&amp;nbsp;to give to&amp;nbsp;Peggy&amp;nbsp;for Christmas.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could stroll down the isles&amp;nbsp;of the Memory Place Store and buy all of her memories back, wrap them in pretty christmas paper&amp;nbsp;and give them to her this Christmas morning.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;On Christmas morning, under her Christmas tree, there would be colorful boxes, decorated with bows and glitter and signed, Love, Mary Louise. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She could open the boxes one at a time and each would contain a group of&amp;nbsp; her forgotten&amp;nbsp;memories.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One box would have all&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;stories&amp;nbsp;of her childhood. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just by opening the box, her childhood memories would flood back into her brain as she sipped the&amp;nbsp;coffee that she loved.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Next, she could open the gift box containing all of the memories of her teen years. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would carefully take them from the box and drape them around her neck&amp;nbsp;and in a flash, all of those memories would be hers again on this special Christmas day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Then, she would open the&amp;nbsp;next three boxes. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Those boxes would have the memories of her 20's, 30's and 40's wrapped in white tissue paper. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would open&amp;nbsp;the boxes&amp;nbsp;one at a time and have all of those memories&amp;nbsp;drift back into her mind&amp;nbsp;while&amp;nbsp;sitting in the light of her shining, twinkling Christmas tree. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The next gift box would contain the memories of her husband, her marriage and of her children. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What joy would shine from her face as she looked at them lying in the box and she could remember all of the times they spent together. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would throw the contents of the box into the air and let the memories rain down on her&amp;nbsp;and bask in the glow of their love and remember each of them once again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The last gift box would hold the memories of&amp;nbsp;our parents, her sisters and&amp;nbsp;her brother. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would smile and hold the box to her heart and remember the love that we all share. She could take each memory out and hold it in her hands. She could&amp;nbsp;throw the memories around like balls,&amp;nbsp;bouncing them from the floor to the ceilings while laughing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her eyes would be shining and brimming with tears because she could remember her life and the love that was shared at Christmas time and the rest of the year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;On this special Christmas morning...The morning of miracles, Peggy could have a miracle for one day. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;For this one special Christmas Day, Peggy would get 7 beautiful&amp;nbsp;boxes. Each box containing the gift of the remembering&amp;nbsp;her life. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would open all of "The Memory Place Store" gifts that were&amp;nbsp;carefully wrapped in beautiful paper and colorful bows. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She could unwrap her past and present and remember. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would have&amp;nbsp;one day to remember what it is like to love and be loved.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy would know&amp;nbsp;on Christmas&amp;nbsp;day morning&amp;nbsp;that even though her life is disappearing...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My love for her will never disappear!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just because she cannot remember.... doesn't mean that I have forgotten!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life may end, times spent together may end&amp;nbsp;but ....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Love remembered at Christmas and through the year will never end!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Merry Christmas, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV id=metrics contentEditable=false style="DISPLAY: none; FILTER: alpha(opacity=0)"&gt;&lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd&lt;/A&gt;, &lt;A href="http://technorati.com/tag/aoljaolPictureAdd_1" target=_blank rel=tag&gt;aoljaolPictureAdd_1&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2092472517124334396?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2092472517124334396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2092472517124334396' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2092472517124334396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2092472517124334396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/12/place-store.html' title='THE &amp;quot;MEMORY PLACE&amp;quot; STORE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-488247296782476023</id><published>2007-11-17T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A GREASY SPOT</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No one knows better than a sister&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;how we grew up, and who our&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;friends, teachers and favorite toys were.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No one knows better than she.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; (&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT size=3&gt;Dale V. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Atkins&lt;/SPAN&gt;)&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This knowing about our lives....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Is what Alzheimer's disease took from Peggy.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This disease......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; took my sister from me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I have often thought that if Alzheimer's disease &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;could take on a form.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It wouldn't ever want to meet me. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It would want to hide from me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I grew up watching out for Peggy, &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;defending her against anyone who&amp;nbsp; was mean to her &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;or would harm her.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Alzheimer's disease wouldn't ever want to meet me &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;after what it has done to Peggy.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My anger towards this vile monster would be unleashed &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;and after the fight....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;There would only be a greasy spot where &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/SPAN&gt; stood.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;PEGGY AT THE NURSING HOME&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxg2zsBJHv9a4v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter03.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/14/008/5F/B3/65/CD/OtbfmAS6jRZ3eDm9st82rDKe2GS1ZNLy0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I love you Today, Peggy!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I miss you so much!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-488247296782476023?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/488247296782476023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=488247296782476023' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/488247296782476023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/488247296782476023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/11/greasy-spot.html' title='A GREASY SPOT'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2048316735211943624</id><published>2007-11-05T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ABSENT..but Remembered</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;The approach of the holidays&amp;nbsp;is harder than ever when &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;someone you love cannot be apart of your life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It really doesn't matter why they will be absent....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;it is just that they are not there to celebrate with you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;When we were first married, my husband was surprised&amp;nbsp;when &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;my mother&amp;nbsp;said how sad she would be&amp;nbsp;because we were not able &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;to come home for Thanksgiving one year. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;He said; I don't understand why she feels that way, she has 4 other children.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;He didn't&amp;nbsp;understand until our own daughter could not come home one year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;It doesn't matter how many people are present,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;if there is one person you love and&amp;nbsp;that person&amp;nbsp;is absent...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;no one can take their place. No one can be that person. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No one can fill their place at the table or around the Christmas tree.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I feel like that about Peggy and the holidays.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have many people in my life that I love dearly and who will bring joy for the gatherings to come.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;BUT&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There was just one Peggy and....................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She has disappeared and cannot be a part of the holiday joy this year!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d660rrz0yB7Y5reZmofSRLdNfqcrlVdC4HWIv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/012/7F/FF/02/D4/z8ylqjU9slvY-WUZ0nEiK8Eol-O5BfUz0060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; (THANKSGIVING FUN) Peggy, Betty Jean, Barbara&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ML&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;(taking picture )&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Betty Jean, Barbara, Mary Louise, Peggy&amp;nbsp; (CHRISTMAS)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=92d0SOLIvn-UDlQenTsuPMJbNSctTO0bWM1Wv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter10.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/009/41/6A/7E/52/DKxVaXc2nMYIKEZecgq8NHDeZLlmB3bb0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will remember you this holiday season and forever!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2048316735211943624?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2048316735211943624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2048316735211943624' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2048316735211943624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2048316735211943624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/11/absentbut-remembered.html' title='ABSENT..but Remembered'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5588798849505270089</id><published>2007-10-21T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A PEGGY GIFT</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=bc005e8i2-k3AuTpF3z8GW*Uy8i1H4HJEscov4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com:80/data/pictures/02/01D/11/70/34/2F/JXGAQYm-6OH13ddbLN0LFUr8h1dMpoO30076.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One of the most important things I have learned as I have watched my sister disappear........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When someone you love and have depended upon all of your life disappears,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;you are forced to find yourself.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned&amp;nbsp;to find&amp;nbsp;my own strength,&amp;nbsp;my own&amp;nbsp;own inter- voice,&amp;nbsp;my own&amp;nbsp; inter- parent. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I didn't realize how much I depended on Peggy to tell me that everything would be Ok, everything would work out and that I would be OK.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I depended on her and she, on me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, she doesn't need my &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;guidance&lt;/SPAN&gt; and I have been forced to find my own.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned that I am stronger than I thought I was.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss her very much but I am learning to depend on....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Thank you, PJ!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=ce10K3bR3LUzv4pW-JYWMgIUNxIHZFdAuErZv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter04.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/004/20/CD/A7/11/tRQ5a8wXYKEmHOWr1YEXfcV7B5L6Pp450060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5588798849505270089?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5588798849505270089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5588798849505270089' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5588798849505270089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5588798849505270089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/10/peggy-gift.html' title='A PEGGY GIFT'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1306594077445892064</id><published>2007-10-18T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OUT OF MY EYES</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=ae10wOGc3M1jxtV9hb1-pNtAtMRPy4ZVlypdv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com:80/data/pictures/02/02A/4F/A2/84/D7/yoCTg7vNzl3r7aJfMA4YEnQSta2LXrUn008D.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I see the world around me when I look out of my eyes but&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I cannot see myself.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can only see myself if I have the reflection of a mirror or something &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;else that projects my image back to me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;My world can become small if&amp;nbsp;I look out of my eyes and&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;cannot process what&amp;nbsp;I see. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I understand the world around me because my&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;brain sends a message to my eyes. I learned as I grew that a tree was a tree, &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;a car is&amp;nbsp;a car, a house is a house. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What does Peggy see, now that her brain is not sending the correct messages to her eyes. Does she remember that a tree is a tree?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wonder if&amp;nbsp;her eyes&amp;nbsp;recognize that she is Peggy&amp;nbsp;when she sees her reflection in the mirror.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Does her plaque filled brain send the message to her eyes that a chair is a person or a person a chair?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy whispers a lot&amp;nbsp;and seems to talking in a language that only&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;she and the person that she is whispering with in her mind can understand.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have many questions&amp;nbsp;about this disease and its effects&amp;nbsp;on the brain. At present, my questions have no answers.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As I continue to try and figure this out it occurs to me.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It really doesn't matter what&amp;nbsp;Peggy sees or who she is talking with in hushed whispers during her day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What matters is that she doesn't feel afraid or lonely. She smiles a lot and is content and happy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If content, cared for&amp;nbsp;and happy is what she sees when she looks from her eyes....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm glad that she can still see.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1306594077445892064?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1306594077445892064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1306594077445892064' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1306594077445892064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1306594077445892064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/10/out-of-my-eyes.html' title='OUT OF MY EYES'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7228684929011652142</id><published>2007-10-01T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE BACKSTROKE, THE BUTTERFLY AND UNDERWATER TURNS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO06GDF0hHI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Y_xe0RKgbbA/s1600-R/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxru*KV4kO6Htv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm"/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Photo by&amp;nbsp;MaryLouiseRossHarris ...March 2007&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I don't like to feel anger but I think it is healthy to feel and &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;acknowledge &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;that it is there...then learn from it and move on.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I also think that it would be un-natural to say or pretend that &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;there is no anger while watching someone you love disappear from your life.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Maybe, I am the un-natural one for feeling and acknowledging &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;my anger at Peggy from time to time.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I love Peggy dearly but I still feel abandoned by her in many ways.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I struggle with feeling anger towards my sister because I know that she would have never chosen this path for her life. She had no say in disappearing from the lives of all who love her.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I feel bad sometimes because it feels like that I am the only one who feels this anger or will acknowledge it. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy has been and always be a special person in my life.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I&amp;nbsp;have to think&amp;nbsp;about my anger when it rears its ugly head. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It forces me to sort out and understand where it is coming&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;from and how to handle it.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I feel this is the only way that I can grow as a person and as Peggy's sister.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I think of my anger as a tea pot boiling on a stove.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Once I reach the boiling point and spew out my feelings &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I can remove the heat, which is the anger under the pot.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Only then can I think, sort and understand some of the &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;mixed feelings that I encounter from time to time &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;where Peggy is concerned.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I love her, no matter what. She is in my prayers all through the day &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;and if I wake up in the night.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have felt anger toward Peggy &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;during&lt;/SPAN&gt; our lives as sisters. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I always told her why I was angry and she shared &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;her anger with me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I think that if you love someone, you care enough to get angry.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I'm not talking about destructive anger but constructive anger. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Maybe, even a little poor me anger from time to time.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I love and care about my sister, Peggy and...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I'm still angry that she went away!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I think that is a OK statement to make because if our fates were reversed, Peggy would be giving you an &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;ear full&lt;/SPAN&gt; of her anger &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;about my leaving!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;That's just the way the Ross girls feel about one another.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;We love each other enough to get angry and share that anger with one another but always with care.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Anger doesn't need to be loud and abusive. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It may be hurtful but it can be a stepping stone to growth &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;if one is willing to learn.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I think that I grow each time that I am honest and &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;acknowledge that I have feelings of anger concerning Peggy. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It does not hurt Peggy and will not hurt me if I understand &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;where it is coming from and strive to learn as I go through &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;this long process of watching her disappear.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I&amp;nbsp;know that I grow each time that I refuse to sit in the anger &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;for very long. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have found that I never have to sit in my pool of anger &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;for very long before I learn something interesting about myself.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have learned that if I sat in my pool of anger for to long...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I&amp;nbsp; would drown and be of no help to anyone.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have learned so much while watching Peggy disappear. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have learned that I can be angry&amp;nbsp;with the disease and with Peggy &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;and it is OK to have those feelings.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have learned to jump into the pool of my anger, swim around for awhile, get out and&amp;nbsp;dry off.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You, Peggy and thank you for teaching me how to swim.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I'm perfecting&amp;nbsp;the back stroke, the butterfly and the &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;quick underwater turns.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;You will be proud to know that I am swimming better every day!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7228684929011652142?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7228684929011652142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7228684929011652142' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7228684929011652142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7228684929011652142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/10/backstroke-butterfly-and-underwater.html' title='THE BACKSTROKE, THE BUTTERFLY AND UNDERWATER TURNS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO06GDF0hHI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Y_xe0RKgbbA/s72-Rc/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxru*KV4kO6Htv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8388849199736298588</id><published>2007-09-26T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE YOUNG TIME</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;THERE IS NO TIME&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;LIKE THE&amp;nbsp;OLD TIME,&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;WHEN YOU AND I&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;WERE YOUNG!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=e6a0ggInPzes*T5D2wLsOixPkHmWSvHmrYmlv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter05.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/008/6B/B5/91/6B/SaEVOshQ5jlA-sHhuX7hHH1rmR2fRoos0300.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=e6a0ggInPzes*T5D2wLsOixPkFRsOXT0GBvcv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/002/22/EF/84/A9/dYz8ACEMKN-09ADZFt9+jSorv2WUY3NH0300.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=e6a0ggInPzes*T5D2wLsOixPkIJySqZDjYn0v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter05.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/02/00D/7A/F6/DE/36/k8eGJtP9nLhGMZyBS98WPQWrdNXIxBqB0190.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;PEGGY&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=7740CUHV7ryBwP*-Kj44NX6NEypucbNAxRlnv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/04/007/0D/75/C9/7A/U1+HvTJbo3yJXfkf7SKjL7DDSODh+yZK0300.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=7740CUHV7ryBwP*-Kj44NX6NE1rAcyO63DtWv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/006/4A/45/2F/D6/w6EQuw9HkjSKnzSkhhpXXThSSUVMjvpo022F.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=d710I6cvThSbm*bccROfxtJGJgN72KvYelLfv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter05.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/00C/40/01/A1/89/bkjjMENZXiDqBKb4SdPq5erfH1cAIWKA0300.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8388849199736298588?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8388849199736298588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8388849199736298588' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8388849199736298588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8388849199736298588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/09/young-time.html' title='THE YOUNG TIME'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3338668705250275071</id><published>2007-09-17T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DEAR ABBY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;This letter and reply was in "Dear Abby" this morning. Dear Abby is written by Jeanne Phillips, whose mother founded the column. You can write Dear Abby at Box 69440, Los Angles, Ca. 90069&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;TAKING ACTION AGAINST THE &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;SCOURGE&lt;/SPAN&gt; OF ALZHEIMER'S &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;DEAR ABBY:&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;After a 10 year battle, I recently lost my husband to Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My darling was handsome, brilliant and athletic, a chemist and an avid golfer. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Our family was confused and concerned when he began to lose the ability to do simple tasks.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;The progression of his illness was devastating physically, emotionally and financially.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No one should have this disease, either as a person afflicted with it or as a caregiver who is helpless to intervene.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's disease is not the funny punch line of a joke that it has been made out to be.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It's the seventh-leading cause of death in this country, yet it doesn't seem to get the attention that cancer, heart disease or even AIDS does.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What can I do to ensure that Alzheimer's won't affect my children and grandchildren?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Elizabeth in Dallas&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;DEAR ELIZABETH:&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Your concerns are echoed by the families of more than 5 million American's currently living with Alzheimer's and the nearly 10 million people who are providing their care.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If something isn't done about it now, an estimated 16 million people will have it by the year 2050.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I applaud your determination to get involved.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;September &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;21&lt;/SPAN&gt; is WORLD ALZHEIMER'S DAY, and I hope that you- and others-&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;will join the Alzheimer's Association by becoming an Alzheimer's Champion, as I have.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;To learn more about the disease and how you can take steps to join the fight,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;visit.............................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;A href="http://www.ACTIONALZ.ORG"&gt;WWW.ACTIONALZ.ORG&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This letter&amp;nbsp;was real to me as I have and continue to......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Watch My Sister &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Disappear&lt;/SPAN&gt;.........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;From Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If you don't know anyone with the disease..Do it for Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=53e0NUV*8a*7Ig6Hr2Bvlwo89sBrW*FUzXWBv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/005/69/12/50/BA/GWv1NYiHrcrtkDcQeUlADpZ3giiEgrNJ0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3338668705250275071?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3338668705250275071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3338668705250275071' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3338668705250275071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3338668705250275071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/09/dear-abby.html' title='DEAR ABBY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7740924590797519280</id><published>2007-09-07T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ANGER</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I wrote this letter to Peggy. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I did not intend to share it with anyone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I thought that as raw as my feeling were,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;it might be important to someone who has &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;similar&lt;/SPAN&gt; feelings....... &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;while they watch someone they love disappear.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=be60Iupjjus7HI4FKCbaxwrYl3MA3CkYBI44v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/003/3F/E6/68/7D/ekQKPPRvmAOS7dQxMW7xJI9yYwoBdiQJ008D.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ML&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Dear Peggy,&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have&amp;nbsp;felt an&amp;nbsp;angry edge all summer.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I wasn't angry at anyone in &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;particular&lt;/SPAN&gt; but felt that I was carrying some angry feelings that I couldn't put my finger on. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Where were they coming from, who was I angry with, why did I feel this way?&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I know that you don't know or probably care that I haven't come to see you in a long time.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I didn't even know why I couldn't bring myself to see you, I just knew that I couldn't and didn't want to if I am honest.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have been searching my mind and trying to figure me out! &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Not an easy task for the brightest &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;psychiatrist&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; or &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;renown&lt;/SPAN&gt; therapist!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; You, Peggy Jane could always see right through me and did many times!&amp;nbsp;You could&amp;nbsp;point out things&amp;nbsp;to me before I could see them myself.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have to admit that it wasn't always a &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;pleasant&lt;/SPAN&gt; experience.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;You know how much I have always loved you. You were my audience when we were growing up. You were my biggest cheerleader and my friend as we grew into adults. I depended on you and you on me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;So, why can't I come to see you now? Why have I dug my heels in and stood firm?&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have beat myself up over this dilemma, believe me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have thought it was because you really wouldn't even know it was me or that I had traveled many miles to be where you live now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have thought it was because I hate to fly or drive that far.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have thought it was because I couldn't stand the thought of seeing you as you are today.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have thought and thought, &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;analyzed&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; and sorted out reasons.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The truth is Peggy....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I'm scared!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I'm scared that you will not know me and that would break my heart. I have protected my heart all summer and to have it broken in a moment .... I'm not sure my heart is ready for that right now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I'm scared, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;You were the most kind and caring person in the world. I couldn't take not seeing those traits in your eyes now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I know that it is not all about me, it never has been and you know me well &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;enough&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; to know that..if you remembered me and I don't think that you would or could for more than a moment.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Another&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; big thing that I have discovered about me, Peggy is...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am so angry with you!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am so angry!!!!!! You know how mad and stubborn I can get in my anger.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am so...SO Angry with YOU!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;How could you do this to me and to everyone who loves and cares about you??&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;How could you leave like this? &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;How could you just retreat into yourself like you have?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;How dare you be here in body but not in mind?&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;How dare you!!!!!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I know that Mother taught us to be patient and kind to anyone who was ill but Peggy....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;She never told&amp;nbsp;us how to handle something like this.... Something like you getting sick and going away but NOT going away at the same time!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I feelso much anger towards you tonight, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I just had to write it down.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;There is one major thing that I have learned over the years and&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;it is....................&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;You only get angry with someone you trust. Someone you trust&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;and someone who will hear your anger and not go away.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;You always heard my anger and never&amp;nbsp;went away, Peggy....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;What am I supposed to do with&amp;nbsp;my anger towards you now????&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I have anger towards you, Peggy&amp;nbsp;and you&amp;nbsp;are not here to hear it because you have really....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Gone away!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&amp;nbsp; Through&amp;nbsp;the anger and tears.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7740924590797519280?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7740924590797519280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7740924590797519280' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7740924590797519280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7740924590797519280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/09/anger.html' title='ANGER'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1464318974401838143</id><published>2007-09-01T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PEGGY'S WINDOW</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO06Jf_RT0I/AAAAAAAAAAk/ohZBR-O76dU/s1600-R/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxujMpnGj7xhIv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm"/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When someone you love has Alzheimer's disease, it is like looking at them through&amp;nbsp;the window of a locked house. You have no key to the house and can never open the door and walk inside.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You can only see them if you stand on the outside of their house&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;look&amp;nbsp;through the window.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A&amp;nbsp;major problem with standing on the outside of their window and trying to look inside,&amp;nbsp;is that the window gets more fogged and more dirty with each passing year.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;The person you remember becomes more and more distorted as&amp;nbsp;the sooty film continues to cover the window&amp;nbsp;to their soul.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;With the passing of time and the build-up of soot and fog on the window of who they were........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;It is&amp;nbsp;more difficult for you&amp;nbsp;to see them or for them to see you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's window has a build-up of fog that is getting more dense and it is more difficult to see her from this side of her window.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Maybe, with time and research, windows can be cleaned and the people behind the windows will be able to walk to the door, open it wide&amp;nbsp;and let the sun shine into the window of their&amp;nbsp;minds again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that the window of opportunity Peggy and I&amp;nbsp;had ......has been closed and is covered with fog and a gray soot.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One of the things that I deal with&amp;nbsp;as I watch&amp;nbsp;Peggy disappear&amp;nbsp; is that.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She doesn't see me standing on the outside of her window any longer and even if she did, she wouldn't remember who I am or why I am standing there. She wouldn't&amp;nbsp;recall the&amp;nbsp;connection we had in our lives.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I don't think that&amp;nbsp;Peggy sees&amp;nbsp;a&amp;nbsp;fogged&amp;nbsp;or dirty&amp;nbsp;window as she stares.... &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Out of&amp;nbsp; the window of her mind&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is&amp;nbsp;only dirty and fogged&amp;nbsp;when I try to look.............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Inside.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1464318974401838143?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1464318974401838143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1464318974401838143' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1464318974401838143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1464318974401838143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/09/peggy-window.html' title='PEGGY&amp;#39;S WINDOW'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2xrFzuJQNu0/SO06Jf_RT0I/AAAAAAAAAAk/ohZBR-O76dU/s72-Rc/pic%3Fid%3D7d00QeK0q-bQDDXq7Q1iRp9hxujMpnGj7xhIv4xQp5Fd3Ig%3D%26size%3Dm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4633933779766652750</id><published>2007-08-30T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LONELY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;PEGGY WAVING GOODBYE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I never realized that this goodbye wave.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Really meant goodbye!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=9070xoQ9tRKLZ6Y0lbjlCBHBEmjAZZmJS4a0v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/003/0E/AB/EE/8D/TvacmqaWMwUUSRVmomO6-Bc61Fmtyn680180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wonder if Peggy ever gets lonely. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is surrounded by care givers and medical staff 24 hours a day where she lives. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But does she get lonely?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Do people who suffer from diseases like Alzheimer's, Pick's and other dementia diseases remember what lonely is or what it feels like?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that I have felt lonely in crowds. I was in a city once at the airport and there were thousands of people rushing in every direction. I sat waiting for a plane and looked at the faces of people as they rushed by me and&amp;nbsp;there was not&amp;nbsp;a single face that was familiar. In the thousands of people, I felt &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;completely&lt;/SPAN&gt; alone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Is this what Peggy feels?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alone and lonely is a terrible place to visit much less....live!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Everyone tells me that Peggy smiles a lot and seems happy in her world.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Maybe, she has forgotten what lonely&amp;nbsp;is and what lonely feels like.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Maybe, she is just happy to be loved and cared for and doesn't spend time connecting with the feeling of lonely.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I really hope that she isn't lonely in her world of Alzheimer's disease. The disease has already taken so much from her...... Maybe, it has done a nice thing in all it has destroyed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Maybe, it has made her forget....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What lonely feels like.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4633933779766652750?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4633933779766652750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4633933779766652750' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4633933779766652750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4633933779766652750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/08/lonely.html' title='LONELY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3903354181873496007</id><published>2007-08-27T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A TICKET TO THE SHOW</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=95503Pa6LoAHPiFyTqMI5826mPcUQqjp3XnNv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter03.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/00D/6A/2F/2E/52/TxHhK0RnubAv5nYALv08EmfL2yetVqUe0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;The Peggy that I knew has been absent from my life for a long time now.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I think of her every day and say prayers for her constantly in my mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It has become a way of life...my life without the sister that I love.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still think of calling her when something happens in my day but I know that she won't be there to listen and care.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is a strange feeling to become comfortable in these feelings because I fought them for so long.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I saw a show&amp;nbsp;last night about Elvis Presley. He had finished his preformance and left the stage but people in the audience were&amp;nbsp;frozen in place. They were&amp;nbsp;screaming and crying and waving their tickets&amp;nbsp;for one more song, one more glance, one more sight of him on stage. While the people were calling and screaming for one more anything from him, a voice came over the auditorium speaker and stated.........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Elvis has left the building!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It meant that there was no need to scream and cry for another look at&amp;nbsp;Elvis. No need to wave a ticket&amp;nbsp;and demand that he return.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The croud of fans would not&amp;nbsp;hear his voice from the stage one more time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Because as much as the people longed to see and hear him again,the show was over and&amp;nbsp;Elvis had left the building and wasn't coming back.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It took the crowd a while to calm down and realize that the show was really over. People were still crying and wanting more when they slowly realized that there was...no more.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In many ways, that is where I&amp;nbsp; find myself with Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It will never be the same.............. With her or Without her&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I don't think that being resigned&amp;nbsp; to her leaving means that I have to give up hope. I don't think that it means we love the person any less. I do think that it means we move on in our lives while still loving and caring and being there for them&amp;nbsp;in a &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;variety&lt;/SPAN&gt; of ways.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am not saying that I will ever move so far away that I forget about the Peggy that I knew. I&amp;nbsp; never could because she has helped to mold me into the person that I am today...but the past is a&amp;nbsp;nice place to visit but not a healthy place to&amp;nbsp;live. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I don't think that I will ever give up hope that one day, she will just wake up,&amp;nbsp; like in fairy tales or the movies. That is who I am and will always be...hopeful.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy&amp;nbsp;has lost so much time at this point in her life if she did wake up, she would see that the world that has moved on and changed without her. Children have grown to fine adults, grandchildren are years older. Sisters and brother have aged and changed. Peggy would be surprised at all the changes in the world and in herself if she woke up today.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;None of us&amp;nbsp;are the same as when she slipped away years ago. Wanting her back is selfish on my part because it would be very hard for her to adjust to all the changes. I want the old Peggy back&amp;nbsp;but I&amp;nbsp;am resigned to the fact&amp;nbsp;that the old Peggy is gone forever, even if she were to wake up tomorrow.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have been doing a&amp;nbsp;lot of deep thinking tonight. I'm not sure if any of it will make sense to anyone but me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All I know is that my sister Peggy is no longer the sister that I knew and that feels strange. It feels strange but it&amp;nbsp;has become a&amp;nbsp;part of life for me now.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There will be no more contact with the old Peggy. The Peggy&amp;nbsp;that was comfortable in my life for so many years because........... like Elvis....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy Has Left The Building.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She left a long time ago but like the Elvis fans.........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have been sitting in the auditorium of yesterday, frozen to my seat and&amp;nbsp;waving the ticket of&amp;nbsp;all my Peggy memories hoping that she will reappear one more time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will never give my ticket away because it is too precious. It is the ticket to the "Peggy Show" that plays in my mind even though....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy Has Left The Building!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3903354181873496007?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3903354181873496007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3903354181873496007' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3903354181873496007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3903354181873496007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/08/ticket-to-show.html' title='A TICKET TO THE SHOW'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5562969189899018340</id><published>2007-08-17T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BLISSFULLY UN-AWARE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=acc0BqNr9UPqww2stQX04hD4BU1t0EfYrZo6v4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter02.pictures.aol.com:80/data/pictures/02/01E/41/83/7A/B0/rrBL03vmg0-h8vHSLPpVzbm+hIOOFozW0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was in the dentist office yesterday. The room was small with padded chairs lining the walls. The chairs were decorated with grass green cushions and a ton of worn magazines littered the small tables.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In one corner of the room sat a mother with three small children who were all playing on the floor. The little boy was running cars back and forth on the shaggy rug and the girls were talking with animated faces while playing with their dolls.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I noticed that one of the little girls small for her age. I thought she must be around four years old. She had &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;wispy&lt;/SPAN&gt;, thin blonde hair &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;and eyes&lt;/SPAN&gt; that sparkled as she talked. The other &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;noticeable&lt;/SPAN&gt; thing about her was that she had a very large nose and it did not fit her small face. She seemed blissfully unaware of her face or her nose.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The door to the office opened and a little boy walked in with his Dad.&amp;nbsp;The boy&amp;nbsp;looked at the children playing on the floor as he walked past them at to sit in a chair on the other side of the room. He looked like he might be four or five years old.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;He watched the three children as they played and didn't offer to join them. The little girl looked up at him and said, &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;wanna&lt;/SPAN&gt; play?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;He jumped down to join them on the floor. He was waiting to be wanted.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;He didn't notice that the little girl had wispy, thin hair or that her nose was too large for her face like I did.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;He just saw someone who had asked him to join in the play. He was unaware of her physical appearance as he jumped down to play.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I watched them play and laugh and wondered when self- &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;consciousness&lt;/SPAN&gt; &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;enteres&lt;/SPAN&gt; the mind. At what age do we notice we are different and retreat into ourselves?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;At this point in the young lives, they are equal. There is no skin color, no ugly or pretty, no difference. They are just playing and enjoying one another.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;They will be blissfully un-aware until we teach them different.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is at a stage of being blissfully un-aware.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She doesn't worry about her weight, hair, make-up or if people like her or not.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is blissfully &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;unaware&lt;/SPAN&gt; and lives in the moment just like the children on the floor of the dental office.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This state of being will not change for Peggy like it will for the children I saw yesterday.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She continues to go backward in time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am thankful that she is blissfully unaware.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She needs the&amp;nbsp;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;basic&lt;/SPAN&gt; needs met and nothing more.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No houses or cars. No clothes or fancy jewelry.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She only needs to be taken care of and loved...just like the children on the floor......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There are times when I think that blissfully un-aware would be a nice place but....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm not ready to move there because I am too..... aware.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am glad that Peggy has un-learned some of the lessons that we were taught as we grew from children to adults.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am glad that nothing hurts her feelings and hurtful words mean nothing but.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When a negitive is taken away so is the positive that is always on the flip side.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;UN-AWARE /&amp;nbsp;AWARE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5562969189899018340?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5562969189899018340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5562969189899018340' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5562969189899018340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5562969189899018340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/08/blissfully-un-aware.html' title='BLISSFULLY UN-AWARE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8986909770419749875</id><published>2007-08-14T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BACK ON LINE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I finally have my computer up and running again. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will be sharing the thoughts that I have been writing in&amp;nbsp;my notebook while I have been away from my computer.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It has been a resting period for me and one that I needed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is doing&amp;nbsp;as well as can be expected for this stage of the disease. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My sisters, Betty Jean&amp;nbsp;and Barbara have visited with her and I will share some of their memories of that visit.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Last week was our sister's week and we all missed Peggy more than I could possibly write. It was good to have the time together with my sisters&amp;nbsp;to remember the past, live in the present and talk about the future.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sister's Week with the three of us was fun but Oh, Peggy.... We all felt the empty place where you used to be!!!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8986909770419749875?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8986909770419749875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8986909770419749875' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8986909770419749875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8986909770419749875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/08/back-on-line.html' title='BACK ON LINE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8061065977316734971</id><published>2007-07-17T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DISAPPEARED</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I just finished writing a long entry that simply...disappeared!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My last entry gave the impression that something had happened to Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is doing well and seems to be happy most of the time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Nothing can bring back the entry that I just finished!&amp;nbsp;I watched and said...NO, No, No as it disappeared from my screen.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It made me think of how Peggy disappeared from my life. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She was here and then...she was gone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; There was absolutely nothing that I could do to bring my sister&amp;nbsp;or the long entry that I had just written back!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, we never &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;truly&lt;/SPAN&gt; understand how important someone&amp;nbsp;or something is to us ....... Until&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is no longer in front of us!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you Peggy and have since you disappeared and you were no longer in front of me!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=b350SidyXWSXfseiG5NaBeccdkkF767951isv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter01.pictures.aol.com:80/data/pictures/01/00E/60/98/2E/E0/ahtpZ+HACqjz5+qEz7R2Tgxz7To1RU5l0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8061065977316734971?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8061065977316734971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8061065977316734971' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8061065977316734971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8061065977316734971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/07/disappeared.html' title='DISAPPEARED'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6950345914028163852</id><published>2007-06-18T22:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TIME</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;TIME IS A FUNNY THING......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You either have too much of it or not enough.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A time to be born and a time to die.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What a person does with the time between being born and dying is interesting.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We usually don't realize the gravity of time until there is no more.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy and I shared many good times but&amp;nbsp;neither of us realized how short our time together would be....... &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Even when she began to forget simple things...we never thought that our "time" would be cut so short.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Time has a way of being slow or fast.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When I am waiting on someone to arrive for a visit, the minutes seem to&amp;nbsp;turn into hours. When they arrive, time speeds up and the visit is over in a flash.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So, our moods reflect how we perceive time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When I was 17, I had all the time in the world and everything moved much to slow for me. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, time goes too fast and weeks turn into years. Holidays come faster and my&amp;nbsp;birthdays&amp;nbsp;are every other week.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When Peggy first started to forget, I thought it would take a long time before she forgot who I was....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was wrong. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;From the first day that I knew that she had Alzheimer's disease to today was just a flash of time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Time ran out&amp;nbsp; for us while I was living my life and planning the next week and next month.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy isn't dead but she has disappeared from my daily living. She has disappeared&amp;nbsp;and my time moves on without her presence. Time continues and&amp;nbsp;I continue to plan time for the day, the week, the month, the year.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Sometimes, I cry because Peggy doesn't have any more time. I cry because we don't have any more time and&amp;nbsp;I miss her so much. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=f0a0lwzLsD1LyhMmSLvYE1-VMo4jl7q4B-Kxv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter07.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/019/79/D4/8B/CF/ovBNjvK5SXsF7Hl9cCjn1Adozr+bjlI5008D.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It never crossed my mind during the years that we shared,&amp;nbsp;that time might not be ours forever. We were supposed to be old spry ladies together but........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;TIME had other ideas. TIME ran out while we weren't looking and now, time has run out for us to share our lives as sister's.&lt;/P&gt;Tears In Heavenby Eric Clapton and Will Jennings&lt;P class=author&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=f0a0lwzLsD1LyhMmSLvYE1-VMniwPnqYwGQZv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter08.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/017/64/9E/D6/1C/jfYjVXzNMC7NXwWuxWmSyJBQvnECRKm80076.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=verse&gt;Would you know my name&lt;BR/&gt;If I saw you in heaven?&lt;BR/&gt;Would it be the same&lt;BR/&gt;If I saw you in heaven?&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=chorus&gt;I must be strong&lt;BR/&gt;And carry on,&lt;BR/&gt;'Cause I know I don't belong&lt;BR/&gt;Here in heaven.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=verse&gt;Would you hold my hand&lt;BR/&gt;If I saw you in heaven?&lt;BR/&gt;Would you help me stand&lt;BR/&gt;If I saw you in heaven?&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=chorus&gt;I'll find my way&lt;BR/&gt;Through night and day,&lt;BR/&gt;'Cause I know I just can't stay&lt;BR/&gt;Here in heaven.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;Time can bring you down,&lt;BR/&gt;Time can bend your knees.&lt;BR/&gt;Time can break your heart,&lt;BR/&gt;Have you begging please, begging please.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=chorus&gt;Beyond the door,&lt;BR/&gt;There's peace I'm sure,&lt;BR/&gt;And I know there'll be no more&lt;BR/&gt;Tears in heaven.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=verse&gt;Would you know my name&lt;BR/&gt;If I saw you in heaven?&lt;BR/&gt;Would it be the same&lt;BR/&gt;If I saw you in heaven?&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=chorus&gt;I must be strong&lt;BR/&gt;And carry on,&lt;BR/&gt;'Cause I know I don't belong&lt;BR/&gt;Here in heaven.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;/P&gt;Time can bring you down,&lt;BR/&gt;Time can bend your knees.&lt;BR/&gt;Time can break your heart,&lt;BR/&gt;Have you begging please, begging please.&lt;P class=bridge&gt;I am thankful for the time that Peggy and I shared as sister's but Oh..........how I wish that we had just one more hour. Just 60 short ticks of the clock!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;How I wish that...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;We had a little more time!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;I&amp;nbsp;Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;I smile when I remember our time together. The laughter, the serious talks, the dreams and even the anger. It was.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;Our time and it went by much too fast!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P class=bridge&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6950345914028163852?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6950345914028163852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6950345914028163852' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6950345914028163852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6950345914028163852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/06/time.html' title='TIME'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1772071962753847311</id><published>2007-06-13T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DRAMA QUEEN CROWNED</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=19c0NHHvpAeyf*tVQNw5D-3EWiihhLYo33iMv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter03.pictures.aol.com:80/data/pictures/01/004/71/D7/FF/1B/7P6T+ya8--u6wS412nsAJNBJVdV6-VTC0180.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;M. L. &amp;amp; PEGGY&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I stumbled across a &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;blog last night&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&amp;nbsp;that had a comment about my journal.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It said...Watching My Sister...Disappear----Drama Queen &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Blog&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;At first, I was hurt, then upset, then angry.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How dare this person put a tag on my&amp;nbsp;journal&amp;nbsp;about&amp;nbsp;losing my sister to Alzheimer's disease!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I couldn't get the comment out of my mind. I think he is right&amp;nbsp;on some level because&amp;nbsp;watching my sister disappear is&amp;nbsp;real drama in my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have&amp;nbsp;received thousands of wonderful, supportive comments and yet this one, &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;negative&lt;/SPAN&gt; comment&amp;nbsp;rolled around in my mind for quite a while.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This person dismissed my writing and it didn't feel good. I wished that I could talk to him&amp;nbsp;and win him over&amp;nbsp;by explaining how this disease effects family members. But he probably could not hear my words.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Losing someone you love,whether it is&amp;nbsp;fast or slow&amp;nbsp;and deserves a bit of drama.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I am very serious about teaching what Alzheimer's and other brain deseases can do to the person affected and to all who love that person.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I think he needs to know Peggy before he decides that this journal is a waste of time for him and anyone who reads my words.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;People grieve in different ways and writing this journal is my way to grieve over losing my sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;W&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;M&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. S D.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Drama....Yes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Writer of&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt; &lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;W&lt;/SPAN&gt;. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;M&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. S. D.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Drama Queen.....O K.....At times, Yes. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Getting defensive over my style of writing....Yes!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Writing this journal and&amp;nbsp;reading the support of so many people has made this journey..... not as lonely as it may have been.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I want to thank all of you for the comments of support over the years. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Personally, I think that Peggy deserves all the drama that I can write.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will never let her disappear &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;quietly&lt;/SPAN&gt; for I am.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;W&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;M&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;. S. D. Drama Queen and Peggy is my sister!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;like the title after I got used to saying it to myself.&amp;nbsp; I know that Peggy would get a huge laugh&amp;nbsp;if she knew that I had been labeled a D. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Q&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&amp;nbsp;and knowing her, she would probably call me D. &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Q&lt;/SPAN&gt;. for the rest of my life!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy would make sure to remind me of my title every chance she got....... If only.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She wasn't disappearing from Alzheimer's Disease and..... if only....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She&amp;nbsp;still remembered&amp;nbsp;who I am!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1772071962753847311?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1772071962753847311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1772071962753847311' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1772071962753847311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1772071962753847311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/06/drama-queen-crowned.html' title='DRAMA QUEEN CROWNED'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5392845662639117505</id><published>2007-05-31T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TWO WORDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=b350SidyXWSXfseiG5NaBeccdro2Hvcn7gyGv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/05/009/23/7F/5D/F9/bkE5vgAzh7P6K5r026XO2MyWAdm350VR0300.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;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&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I looked at a picture of Peggy and me when we were children and it seemed like yesterday.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought of how long ago that picture was made and thought.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Yesterday and Forever are worlds apart but close.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember the first time thatI heard the word Alzheimer's Disease connected to Peggy&amp;nbsp; like it was&amp;nbsp;yesterday but it was forever ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember talking to her on the phone, laughing and talking about an upcoming sister's trip as if it was yesterday but it was forever ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Our minds are powerful enough&amp;nbsp;for us remember yesterday like it was really yesterday.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Two words...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So close and so far away in meaning.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Yesterday was a day ago, a year ago or many years ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is gone to me today but I have the the yesterdays. I wonder what it would be like to have neither???&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&amp;nbsp; See you tomorrow, when today becomes.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Yesterday.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=da30XYqsggt3uqzm5xmhuzti3liF1BKrgIFkv4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter04.pictures.aol.com/data/pictures/01/002/0E/51/EA/54/I+k1MiZjI7aqiBXhNHWFRRkXzO0qnpXS0300.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5392845662639117505?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5392845662639117505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5392845662639117505' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5392845662639117505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5392845662639117505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/05/two-words.html' title='TWO WORDS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6441229568849324421</id><published>2007-05-17T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I WISH.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;a class="pp_image_instance" target="_blank" href="http://pictures.aol.com/ap/singleImage.do?pid=11f0X-h9RPaUCg86GPA7P6pbwYguUotW5m-Ev4xQp5Fd3Ig="&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://shutter09.pictures.aol.com:80/data/pictures/05/009/64/ED/10/92/38v4cuSrDyF8g7Hl6lIhB1JbTbY0N7bd0060.jpg" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;received&lt;/SPAN&gt; some new pictures of Peggy yesterday. Her husband is always good about sending them to me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am glad to get them but they always make me cry. Not because she looks awful but because I miss her so much.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I see the picture of my sister and know that she doesn't remember who I am.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;She is still beautiful in a vacant kind of way. Her smile is still big and bright but the &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;essence&lt;/SPAN&gt; of who she was..... is gone.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am thankful that she isn't in any kind of pain, physically or mentally.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I wish that I had a magic wand to wave over her head. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I wish that I was a &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;brilliant&lt;/SPAN&gt; researcher who discovered a cure today.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I wish that I could restore the smile in her eyes.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I wish that I could....But I can't!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy&amp;nbsp;just is.........&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And.......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I miss my sister.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Mary&lt;/SPAN&gt; Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6441229568849324421?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6441229568849324421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6441229568849324421' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6441229568849324421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6441229568849324421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-wish.html' title='I WISH.....'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2229472563122437015</id><published>2007-05-12T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY MOTHERS DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff0000 size=7&gt;HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff0000 size=7&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; FROM.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff0000 size=6&gt;PEGGY AND MARY LOUISE&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff0000 size=6&gt;BARBARA AND BETTY JEAN&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2229472563122437015?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2229472563122437015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2229472563122437015' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2229472563122437015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2229472563122437015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='HAPPY MOTHERS DAY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2044761676160281609</id><published>2007-05-09T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>QUIETNESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I have been quiet for awhile in my writing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is not that I don't have &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;a lot&lt;/SPAN&gt; of words and feelings wandering around in my mind. Words and feelings&amp;nbsp;concerning Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No&amp;nbsp;words are making it to my fingers&amp;nbsp;at this time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;These times come.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;These times go.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that I will be able to write my feelings again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Right now, they are resting.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, I have so much to say that I am unable to talk.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I know that you never would have imagined that I could be quiet!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In quietness and trust..is your strength&amp;nbsp; Isaiah 30:15&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2044761676160281609?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2044761676160281609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2044761676160281609' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2044761676160281609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2044761676160281609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/05/quietness.html' title='QUIETNESS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4736585878444819058</id><published>2007-04-25T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A SISTER IS SOMEONE.............</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;A sister is one of the nicest things that can happen to anyone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone to laugh with and share with, to work with and join in the fun.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who helps in the rough times and knows when you need a warm smile.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who will quietly listen when you just want to talk for awhile.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who will always call you back if she misses your call.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who knows all of your faults and loves you anyway.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who is strong when you need strength and soft when you need a velvet place to fall.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who is like you but different.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is someone who knows where you came from because she came from the same place.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is your sister...Your forever friend.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I love you so much today, Peggy and............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you more than I could ever write on paper.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4736585878444819058?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4736585878444819058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4736585878444819058' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4736585878444819058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4736585878444819058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/04/sister-is-someone.html' title='A SISTER IS SOMEONE.............'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5194749836894486365</id><published>2007-04-20T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A STUCK PLACE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have never liked to see anything that I considered...scary.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am the first person to&amp;nbsp;look at the floor&amp;nbsp;in a movie &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;theatre&lt;/SPAN&gt; or watching television if something scares me. I am the person who covers her eyes with her hands and spreads her fingers, just a little bit to see if it is safe to look again.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Sometimes, things are&amp;nbsp;so scary to me that my mind doesn't want it to be imprinted on my brain. So, I don't look or go where there are images that frighten me.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;If I do watch or hear something frightening,&amp;nbsp;it sometimes&amp;nbsp;gets installed in my brain cells...it doesn't go away. It visits me with repeated images of what I have seen.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have always known to cover my eyes and ears at certain times.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I think this is quite normal for some super sensitive people.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;But I have taken it a &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;step&lt;/SPAN&gt; further when it comes to watching my sister...disappear.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I&amp;nbsp;haven't wanted to visit with Peggy for a while now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I don't want to see her or have her look at me and not know who I am...right now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It hurts too much and I feel too deep. I have entered a coward phase.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I don't know if I am the only person in the world who gets to this place when someone you love has &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;&lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;Alzheimer's&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt; or Picks disease.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am in a numb place. A"take care of myself place" right now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My husband visited with Peggy a few weeks ago and said she looks better than he thought that she would. He said that it felt like she recognized&amp;nbsp;him but she&amp;nbsp;could not respond &lt;SPAN class=correction id=""&gt;verbally&lt;/SPAN&gt;.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am so glad that he went to see her while he was on a business trip to the area where she lives.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am so glad he visited with her because I feel like such a&amp;nbsp;bad sister&amp;nbsp;right now. I feel like I am letting her down but at this time...I cannot go to see her.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I never thought that I would ever be&amp;nbsp;in this place&amp;nbsp;concerning Peggy.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It is a "out of sight, out ofmind" type of place but......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The out of sight part works just find.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It's the out of mind part that I am having trouble dealing with right now.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It really doesn't matter if I see Peggy in person or not...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;She is forever imprinted on my brain and it doesn't matter if my eyes are covered or wide open...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;She is always there and I know that Peggy understands me and the stuck place...&amp;nbsp;I find myself in&amp;nbsp;at the present time.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I can't explain why I am here. I just know that my heart needs to&amp;nbsp;rest and heal.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Thanks for knowing me so well that I feel your love and acceptance even though I am stuck here and you are struck there.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I hope that I am not the only person in the world who has found them selves in this awful place.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The place of caring so much that it hurts.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have no excuse for my stuck place. It is where I am.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It is a good feeling to know that I am loved even when I am not a very great sister.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;TO KNOW SOMEONE HERE OR THERE WITH WHOM YOU FEEL THERE IS AN UNDERSTANDING...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;INSPITE OF DISTANCES OR THOUGHTS UNEXPRESSED........THAT CAN MAKE OF THIS EARTH..A GARDEN.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ( Goethe)&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5194749836894486365?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5194749836894486365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5194749836894486365' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5194749836894486365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5194749836894486365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/04/stuck-place.html' title='A STUCK PLACE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7481948909706842469</id><published>2007-03-18T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHO ARE WE????</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;This Christmas, our son gave his Father and me a unique gift with a request attached.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;He gave us each a hand held recorder with small tapes.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;His request was that we take time to record our verbal history. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;He wants us to record our earliest memory, our childhood moments, teenage years and young adult years. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;How we met, what we thought of one another when we started dating. Our engagement, wedding and memories of&amp;nbsp;the pregnancies and births of each of our children.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;He has heard all of these stories before but wanted each of us to record our memories in our own voices. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;This personal history of our lives will be passed down&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;the future generations of our family.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;A big request but a thoughtful one.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have been walking back through my mind to my earliest memories. Where we lived and how I felt at the time.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;It has been interesting to visit the places that have been tucked away in my mind for so long.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My earliest memory is of being 3 years old and finding a ring in the gutter in front of our apartment.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I remember being 4 years old and seeing Mother come home from the hospital with a new baby named, Peggy.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I don't recall all of the details but I do remember sketches from my early childhood days. They have made their home in my mind and remain there, waiting to be visited and remembered&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Trying to remember my early memories made me wonder......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;WHO ARE WE WITHOUT OUR MEMORIES?&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My memories have made me who I am today. Even the bad memories shaped my life in ways that resurface from time to time.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;So, who am I without my memories??????&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am the millions of people who suffer from, Alzheimer's disease, Pick's disease,&amp;nbsp;dementia and other brain injuries.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Who am I.... if my memories are gone?&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am still me but without a past, present or future.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Our memories shape who we are and how we act and react today to different circumstances.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy&amp;nbsp;has no&amp;nbsp;memory&amp;nbsp;of her past, her present or plans for&amp;nbsp;her future. No memories&amp;nbsp;to tell her who she&amp;nbsp;was and who she is today.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I feel that&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;as her brother and sisters, we should&amp;nbsp; record our unique memories of Peggy. The Peggy&amp;nbsp;we knew as a child, teenager and young adult. We must record and pass this remembrances to her daughters and grandchild. If we don't....The Peggy they did not know as a child....will be forever lost to them.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My memories are precious to me and to lose them would be unimaginable.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;But then, I thought....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;If you don't Know that you don't Know....Memories have no meaning.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;So, without my memories.......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I AM PEGGY!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Who would you be without your memories????&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy! &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I can say that I love you because I remember.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;will remember our shared&amp;nbsp;time together&amp;nbsp;until...I think no more and I....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;am also a memory!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Generations of my family will come and go, live and love, laugh and&amp;nbsp;cry, marry and&amp;nbsp;have children, grow old and die and become memories themselves.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I hope that one day, one of my great, great, great grandchildren will find some tiny tapes in a dusty box. They&amp;nbsp;will take them to be&amp;nbsp;recorded on the listening machines of the day and they will hear my voice saying.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Hello,&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My name is Mary Louise Ross Harris. I was born to Allen and Myrtice Ross in Fairfield, Alabama.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I am your great, great, great grandmother.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I want to share some of&amp;nbsp;the memories of my life with each of you.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;To all who&amp;nbsp;are&amp;nbsp;listening to this recording...I send my love from the generations before you were born. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My prayer, a prayer&amp;nbsp;that flies over time, is that your lives are&amp;nbsp;filled with love, joy and purpose. If they are not.....do what you must to fix it! &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;That is not a request but an order!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Here are some of the memories of my growing up years....................... &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The fashions of the day, the cars, the world today and the news from around the world, my sisters and brother, my children and grandchildren. Their names are.....................&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I want you to meet the&amp;nbsp;love of my life, my husband, John. We were married in 1963 in Birmingham, Alabama. It was a warm, beautiful June day and..........................&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Life is shorted than you&amp;nbsp;realize at this time in your lives. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Live well, laugh often, love much! &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My Mother and Daddy were unique, wonderful people who worked hard all of their lives..............&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;And as my Daddy used to say to the girls and boys of our&amp;nbsp;family............&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I love all of you, Today!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Your Great, Great, Great Grand Mother....Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;PS.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Let me tell you about my sister, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy was born when I was almost 4 years old. I remember..................&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7481948909706842469?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7481948909706842469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7481948909706842469' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7481948909706842469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7481948909706842469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/03/who-are-we.html' title='WHO ARE WE????'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3495047560340851390</id><published>2007-03-09T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PEG OF MY HEART</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy's husband always called her Peg.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I heard a song on XM radio today called "Peg of My Heart". It was a song from the 40's era.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;thought of&amp;nbsp;Peggy and&amp;nbsp;R.&amp;nbsp;as I listened to the words&amp;nbsp;of the song. They&amp;nbsp;are living&amp;nbsp;a true love story that continues today. It continues as he visits every day with the woman he married. It continues even though she has forgotten&amp;nbsp;her wedding day&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;the words she spoke&amp;nbsp;from her heart that day&amp;nbsp;to R.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;That made me think about&amp;nbsp;the heart and what it knows as love. What&amp;nbsp;the heart contains and what it remembers.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Three weeks ago, I had a Heart Catheterization. I was able to see my heart as the procedure was performed.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I saw the arteries and the chambers of my heart as it was beating. I&amp;nbsp;was amazed&amp;nbsp;during the procedure&amp;nbsp;as a tiny probe searched&amp;nbsp;my heart.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What I didn't see&amp;nbsp;as I looked at my beating heart were all of&amp;nbsp;the thoughts,&amp;nbsp;feelings&amp;nbsp;and memories&amp;nbsp;that I thought were stored there.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;What&amp;nbsp;I saw was a beating muscle that was giving me life. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;We use terms like...I love you with all my heart.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My heart aches or breaks for you and many others expressions to describe our heart as the seat of&amp;nbsp;our emotion.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The real seat of our thoughts, memories and emotions lies in our brains not in our hearts.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Our heart keeps us alive. It's constant beating supplies the blood and oxygen we need to survive. When the heart stops...so do we. When the heart stops beating, we die and so does our brain.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The brain cannot live without the heart but....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;The heart can live without the brain.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy's heart is well and healthy but her brain is sick and dying.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;While I was lying on a table in the&amp;nbsp;cardiac lab,&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;saw an&amp;nbsp;artery in my heart&amp;nbsp;that just ended with no way to let the blood flow to other parts of my heart, an&amp;nbsp;artery was 100% blocked.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I watched as the probe opened the clogged artery and a stent was inserted to keep it open.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;The procedure caused no pain and my prognosis is wonderful.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I live in a time when a serious heart procedure can be&amp;nbsp;performed and&amp;nbsp;you&amp;nbsp;can be&amp;nbsp;sent home the next day.&amp;nbsp; Even 5 or 10 years ago, open heart surgery would have probably been the only way to open that blocked artery. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;There has been so much progress in areas of the heart.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;One day, there will be a simular procedure performed on the brain of patients like Peggy who develop Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Areas of the brain that have been blocked by plaque can be opened, stented and blood flow restored.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Alzheimer's and other brain diseases will be a one or two day hospital stay and&amp;nbsp;a patient can&amp;nbsp;go&amp;nbsp;home to a long, healthy life.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I&amp;nbsp;am thankful&amp;nbsp;for a second chance at life.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;A second chance.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy did not get a second chance in life.... because of her brain.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;I got a second chance in life..... because of my heart!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Peggy&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;My Brain...... told my Heart to say....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3495047560340851390?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3495047560340851390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3495047560340851390' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3495047560340851390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3495047560340851390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/03/peg-of-my-heart.html' title='PEG OF MY HEART'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3840469566688717820</id><published>2007-03-01T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE WINGS TO FLY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; MY SISTER IS MY HEART.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; SHE OPENS DOORS TO ROOMS....&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; THAT&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;NEVER KNEW WERE THERE.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;SHE BREAKS THROUGH WALLS THAT.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;&amp;nbsp;I DON'T RECALL BUILDING.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;SHE LIGHTS THE DARKEST CORNERS OF MY LIFE WITH THE SPARKLE IN HER EYES.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;(Lisa Gorden)&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;This is what I miss about not having Peggy in my life.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Her mind is silent and her eyes have lost their sparkle.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;There is&amp;nbsp;no way&amp;nbsp;that Peggy can&amp;nbsp;open the doors&amp;nbsp;to the many rooms of my heart.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;She&amp;nbsp;can no longer break through the walls that I build by living my daily life.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;She can no longer light the darkest rooms of my heart with the sparkle in her eyes.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;But I remember when Peggy's strength was a part of my life and I remember all that she taught me by being my sister.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Even&amp;nbsp;birds push their young out of the nest so that they can learn to fly on their own.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy&amp;nbsp;is no longer a part of my daily life. I have been pushed out of the nest that we had built as sisters.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have learned&amp;nbsp;that I am a strong&amp;nbsp;woman.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I have learned that&amp;nbsp;flying&amp;nbsp;without her&amp;nbsp;is lonely&amp;nbsp;but that I can do it.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Alzheimer's disease took Peggy away but&amp;nbsp;by doing so it..................&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Gave me the wings to fly on my own,with confidence and purpose. &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Purpose....&amp;nbsp;to write about what it feels like from this side of&amp;nbsp;Alzheimer's disease and not be embarrassed for people to read what I have written and most of all......&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&amp;nbsp;Confidence... to fly and soar in my life, knowing that my sister&amp;nbsp;cannot catch me if I fall.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Hey Peggy...I'm doing it........ Thank you&amp;nbsp;for helping&amp;nbsp;adjust my wings...................&amp;nbsp;so that I can&amp;nbsp;soar!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3840469566688717820?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3840469566688717820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3840469566688717820' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3840469566688717820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3840469566688717820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/03/wings-to-fly.html' title='THE WINGS TO FLY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5934096759165536613</id><published>2007-02-07T00:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE GREATEST LESSONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy on television last week.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Meredith's mother has been in a nursing home for five years&amp;nbsp;with brain clutter and forgetfulness of Alzheimer's disease. She spent five years not knowing who or where she was and&amp;nbsp;of not recognizing her only daughter.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Five years of not remembering her life or being to communicate with anyone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No one understands how a person in this condition can suddenly awaken for a period of time and remember.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The awakening can last for seconds, minutes, hours, days or even weeks. It is a rare gift that&amp;nbsp;can happen&amp;nbsp;with Alzheimer's patients.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I watched the people play the roles and was astounded at the waste of precious time played&amp;nbsp;by both characters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Old issues&amp;nbsp;resurfaced during the awakening&amp;nbsp;and though many words were spoken,&amp;nbsp;there was&amp;nbsp;nothing of love or care&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;one other.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wondered what I would say to Peggy if she were to suddenly awaken after all of these years?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could imagine&amp;nbsp;the words would flow like water running over a waterfall at tremendous force. There would be so many things that I would want to&amp;nbsp;tell her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; I would&amp;nbsp;tell her that I have grandchildren now and recite their names and ages.&amp;nbsp; I would want to tell her about all the things that have happen in my life since she forgot who I was and that we&amp;nbsp;were sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I would talk fast so that I could get everything in before she slipped away again.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I would&amp;nbsp;tell her all of my accomplishments and disappointments. I would talk, talk, talk just like we used to do before she got sick.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I would ask her........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;And then, I stopped my thought process.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If I have a moment, hour or a day to talk to Peggy again, I would probably skip most of&amp;nbsp;the things that I recited above...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I would hug her and tell her over and over how much I had missed her and how much I love her. I would say the things that I didn't say enough when we were together.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I would ask her questions about where she has been and what it felt like to have Alzheimer's disease. I would ask her if she&amp;nbsp;felt afraid or safe.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We never know how much time we have with the people we love and admire.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In the television show, Grey's Anatomy,&amp;nbsp;I watched as Meredith and her mother wasted the short time that they were given, time that may or may not ever&amp;nbsp;come again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have always heard that talk is cheap. I would waste time with&amp;nbsp;Peggy by talking and telling her about my life these&amp;nbsp;past years.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We live in the now..........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;To be able to talk to someone in the now&amp;nbsp;is a gift and to hug that person is a gift and to have them hug back is a greater gift.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If I ever have the privilege of speaking to Peggy again, I would just look at her and tell her how much I love her. I would tell her&amp;nbsp;how much I have missed her and how proud I have always been of her and I would add.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is so nice to have you back again even for a little while.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is so nice to see your smile.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is so nice to see recognition in your eyes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I want to thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for our growing up&amp;nbsp;years as children, young adults and grown women.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Thank you for all that you taught me along the way. Thank you for always believing in me&amp;nbsp;even when I didn't believe in myself.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I would take her hands and look into her eyes and say...........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy, you taught me a lot when we were together but you know what.......you taught me the&amp;nbsp;greatest lessons of all....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When you went away!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5934096759165536613?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5934096759165536613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5934096759165536613' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5934096759165536613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5934096759165536613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/02/greatest-lessons.html' title='THE GREATEST LESSONS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8346554899743957513</id><published>2007-01-23T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'LL TALK TO YOU IN MY DREAMS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I had another dream about Peggy the other day. I don't have them as often as I once did and I think that is normal.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Dreams feel so real that I actually felt that Peggy and I had talked when I awaken.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm sure a Psychiatrist would have a field day with this one!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I called Peggy and we were talking just like we used to do. I asked her if she could come to visit me. The longer we talked, the slower her voice became and the softer it became, the further away it became.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Her words were&amp;nbsp;was so soft towards the last of&amp;nbsp;our conversation that I had to strain to hear her speak.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; I started talking&amp;nbsp; louder and telling her all the things we could do and the places we could go while she was here.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When there was was no response from her and I said; Peggy, are you there? Peggy, can you hear me?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There was still no response from her end of the phone. I felt a sense of&amp;nbsp;desperation as I continued to call her name. When she finally spoke, it was like listening to a recording that was slowing down. Her words were slow, muffled and distorted.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I yelled into the phone...Peggy, Peggy, Peggy, can you still hear me?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She finally said in a slow, distorted voice..Yes, but Louise...............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I don't know anything new to say!&amp;nbsp; I can't remember anymore words.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;And then her voice faded away and&amp;nbsp;I awaken.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How true that dream was when I thought about it later.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is like a record recording that has been so damaged, so&amp;nbsp;distorted over time, so scratched and warped&amp;nbsp;that it&amp;nbsp;can barely be recognized as the new recording that it was when we used to talk.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The old Peggy is damaged beyond repair and the new Peggy.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Can't remember the words to say.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I didn't like the way that&amp;nbsp;the dream ended but I did get to talk to her in the beginning of the dream and that was a gift.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I think that our dreams help us to stay connected to those we cannot connect with and&amp;nbsp;work out&amp;nbsp;unresolved &amp;nbsp;feelings.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It's rather nice to know that I will always have a connection to Peggy in my dreams. The dreams are coming less often now as I become resigned to her disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But for now, I know that....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I'll talk to you in my dreams, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8346554899743957513?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8346554899743957513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8346554899743957513' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8346554899743957513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8346554899743957513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-talk-to-you-in-my-dreams.html' title='I&amp;#39;LL TALK TO YOU IN MY DREAMS!'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-571628159604941314</id><published>2007-01-14T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LAST HUG</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wrote in my last entry&amp;nbsp;that I tend to analyze everything that I don't understand.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wish that I had a brain "pause control" or at least a volume control to turn down the constant questions that bounce around in my head.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, I can figure things out&amp;nbsp;but mostly, the questions are never resolved because they really have no answers.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The "why" of my head noise is always with me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can never do a project without trying to figure out how to do it a better way.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was thinking today about making the simple hug better so that the feeling could last forever.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My daughter hugged me goodbye&amp;nbsp;yesterday&amp;nbsp;as she was leaving and I wanted&amp;nbsp;the feelings of that hug to last forever.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was&amp;nbsp;wondering if there is a better way to remember the exact feelings of&amp;nbsp;a hug good-bye.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I do know that a hug goodbye feels different from a hug, hello.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A hug&amp;nbsp;you give to&amp;nbsp;someone you care about contains all the feeling you have assigned to that person. A hug&amp;nbsp;from that person&amp;nbsp;carries the assigned feelings that&amp;nbsp;they have given to you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy and I shared a lot of hello and goodbye hugs over our lifetime as sisters. We hugged goodbye in front of our houses, at airports, at our parents home and many other places.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We hugged goodbye at those times, &amp;nbsp;knowing we would see one another again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am trying to remember our&amp;nbsp;last hug goodbye. The hug that said we would see one another again. The hug that&amp;nbsp;let me know that she knew that&amp;nbsp;I was Mary Louise, her sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It has been so long ago that I am slowly forgetting how it felt.&amp;nbsp; How it felt to know we would see one another again and&amp;nbsp;talk and laugh again, that&amp;nbsp;we would share our lives again on the phone or in person.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's hugs, since she developed Alzheimer's disease are stiff and wooden. I can tell by&amp;nbsp;her hugs, &amp;nbsp;the assigned feelings that made me her sister are gone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, she has completely forgotten how to hug. Her arms hang limp against her sides as arms surround her in a hug.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It's just a simple thing...a hug. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A simple thing that carries a world of feelings gathered over a life time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy has forgotten how to hug and&amp;nbsp;she has forgotten&amp;nbsp;how to send assigned feelings&amp;nbsp;that are encompassed in&amp;nbsp;a hug.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have started to forget how our last hug felt. I have trouble remembering where and when ourlast&amp;nbsp;real hug took place.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I do not have Alzheimer's disease and I am forgetting the feelings that always surrounded our good-bye hugs. The feelings that said I love you and will see you again. The feelings that said, call me if you need me and the feelings that said, I need some breathing time away from family. All of that could be said in a simple hug.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; I think that time helps&amp;nbsp;us remember the hugs good-bye but not the feelings attached to the&amp;nbsp;hug&amp;nbsp;as clearly any more.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is a simple thing...............A hug.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It's interesting how something&amp;nbsp;as simple as a hug can be..................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Missed so much.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-571628159604941314?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/571628159604941314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=571628159604941314' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/571628159604941314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/571628159604941314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/01/last-hug.html' title='THE LAST HUG'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3398036176559411971</id><published>2007-01-07T21:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ANALYZE THIS....</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;My computer has been down.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have felt cut off from everyone and the world wide web.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I didn't realize how much having a connection to the computer&amp;nbsp;meant until...I didn't have it any longer. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just like I take for granted having power in my house. I don't think about it until it goes off.&amp;nbsp; I sit in a dark room and deal with my thoughts without the normal interruptions of radio, television and telephones.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I admit that I analyze everything to death, always have and probably always will.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When I couldn't get to the web sites, like my journals, I felt cut off and I admit, lonely.&amp;nbsp; I wasn't able to express my feelings and know that someone was reading what I was writing. I didn't know if someone was viewing the photographs on my photography journal&amp;nbsp;or if someone was laughing at something that I had said on one of my other journals.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I felt cut off from important places and people.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I began to wonder if Peggy feels cut off from the world?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wondered if&amp;nbsp;she feels lonely because she cannot communicate with those who care about her and those&amp;nbsp;she cares about? &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Does she have any ability any longer to feel anything at all? I analyzed.....and analyzed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I wasn't able to write and explain my feelings, I felt cut off.&amp;nbsp; Not only to those who read my journal but&amp;nbsp;from the ability to communicate the words, pictures and feeling that are always roaming around in my head..&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As I analyzed my thoughts about what Peggy does or does not feel, I began to realize that instead of trying to figure out the why of something, maybe, I should just let it be as it is. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still cannot understand why a vibrant, young woman would develop Alzheimer's disease and&amp;nbsp;I probably never will but.... I can stop analyzing and trying to figure it all out&amp;nbsp;and just love her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have been trying so hard to see through Alzheimer's disease and understand the why and how of it that I sometimes lose sight of the most important thing... Peggy.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Not the way that she was but the way that she is today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;want to stop trying to see through her and figure everything out and&amp;nbsp;just see her, as she is now. I need to stop trying to see through her and just see her through.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Writing makes my feelings real and then, I must deal with them&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought about it and realized that&amp;nbsp;the way that I handled not writing about Peggy was&amp;nbsp;exactly&amp;nbsp;the way that I handle not being able to talk with her any longer.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The same way that I handle anything in my life that hurts, confuses or scares me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I handle it............................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just a little bit at a time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3398036176559411971?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3398036176559411971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3398036176559411971' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3398036176559411971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3398036176559411971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/01/analyze-this.html' title='ANALYZE THIS....'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3741696998110933849</id><published>2007-01-01T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE NEW YEAR 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;LOOKING FORWARD INTO AN EMPTY YEAR STRIKES ONE WITH A CERTAIN AWE..................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;BECAUSE ONE FINDS THEREIN NO RECOGNITION.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;THE YEARS BEHIND HAVE A FRIENDLY ASPECT AND THEY ARE WARMED BY THE FIRES THAT WE HAVE KINDLED.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;ALL OF THEIR ECHOES ARE THE ECHOES OF OUR OWN VOICES.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;(Alexander Smith)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you on this January 1st of the year 2007, Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hear all the echoes of our past.... as sisters, as friends, as confidants.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still hear you, Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still miss you.........hearing me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Happy New Year 2007&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3741696998110933849?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3741696998110933849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3741696998110933849' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3741696998110933849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3741696998110933849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year-2007.html' title='THE NEW YEAR 2007'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8281657223240804656</id><published>2006-12-24T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MERRY CHRISTMAS 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Merry Christmas Eve Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss your laughter, your excitement, your smile.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss knowing you remember what Christmas means.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss sharing with you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss so many things that made you...You.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you this Christmas of 2006 but I am thankful for all the Christmas' that we shared as sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This is just another day for you but for me...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is the Christmas memories of our lifetime as sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Merry Christmas, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8281657223240804656?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8281657223240804656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8281657223240804656' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8281657223240804656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8281657223240804656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/12/merry-christmas-2006.html' title='MERRY CHRISTMAS 2006'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5021246526741830034</id><published>2006-12-20T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FINDING MY CHRISTMAS SPIRIT</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I was shopping for Christmas gifts the other day at our local mall.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I watched the people's faces&amp;nbsp;as they hurried past me as I walked&amp;nbsp;past the many stores that were decorated for Christmas.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was feeling blue and needed to see a smile directed toward me. I needed a smile&amp;nbsp;to help me through the sad feelings.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I did not see a single smile because everyone, including me, was absorbed in our own lives, our own&amp;nbsp; rush to buy gifts and our own sadness of the season.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I made my way to the food court, found a table and sat to watch people as they hurried past my table.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There was no laughter that I could hear. The mall music was softly playing Christmas carols&amp;nbsp;in the background.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Everything was decorated and ready for Christmas except...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The people in the mall and......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;was searching for my Christmas spirit&amp;nbsp;and my shopping trip to the mall made it very clear to me the the spirit that I was searching for that day was not to be found in...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The mall, the music that was playing or the decorations of the season.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The spirit that I am searching for this year cannot be bought, wrapped and given to me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My Christmas spirit must be earned and given away to come back to me.&amp;nbsp;I can't change what is going on, on the outside...but I can find what I am looking for on the inside.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My spirit this season can only be found inside of me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I went back to the mall to try an experiment.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I didn't look at the faces of the people who passed me hoping that they would give me the smile that I needed from them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Instead, I gave my smile to their faces.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I bought a gift in a store and&amp;nbsp;as I turned to leave the store, I said&amp;nbsp;Happy Holidays to the sales person&amp;nbsp;and she smiled back at me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I helped a lady pick up her coat from the floor and she smiled and thanked me. I said, Happy Holidays and she said, thank you and smiled back at me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What I learned in a few hours in the mall was.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You cannot wait for other people to give you the spirit of the season.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You have to give of yourself and when you do, the smiles will come from the faces of strangers and warm your heart.&amp;nbsp;Giving of yourself brings the spirit of the season back home where it belongs.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If you are searching for the spirit of the season this year...You will find it when you give your spirit away.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It's amazing how the smiles come back home when you open the door of your heart and welcome others inside.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy, I miss you this Christmas season.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss your smile this year but I did see your smile in so many faces at the mall when I took the time to give my smile away.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I learned that&amp;nbsp;I could not find the joy of this season&amp;nbsp;until I was willing to give&amp;nbsp;my Christmas Spirit away and expect nothing in return&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A work in progress&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Always remember to forget the things that made you sad.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But never forget to remember the things that made you glad.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;( Elbert Hubbard )&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5021246526741830034?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5021246526741830034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5021246526741830034' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5021246526741830034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5021246526741830034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/12/finding-my-christmas-spirit.html' title='FINDING MY CHRISTMAS SPIRIT'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6438988505362095534</id><published>2006-12-13T15:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GOING BACK TO "THE MEMORY PLACE" STORE.</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I have been shopping for Christmas and searching for the&amp;nbsp;perfect gifts for those I love.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I walked through the stores at the mall and looked at all the wonderful gifts that I could buy. I took my time because these&amp;nbsp;will be special gifts that will be&amp;nbsp;opened&amp;nbsp;on Christmas morning.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;While shopping, I thought about a store that I wish existed in our mall.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It would be called "The Memory Place Store". &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could go in&amp;nbsp;this&amp;nbsp;shop and&amp;nbsp;buy my gifts&amp;nbsp;to give to&amp;nbsp;Peggy&amp;nbsp;for Christmas.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could stroll down the isles&amp;nbsp;of the Memory Place Store and buy all of her memories back, wrap them in pretty christmas paper&amp;nbsp;and give them to her this Christmas morning.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;On Christmas morning, under her Christmas tree, there would be colorful boxes, decorated with bows and glitter and signed, Love, Mary Louise. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She could open the boxes one at a time and each would contain a group of&amp;nbsp; her forgotten&amp;nbsp;memories.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One box would have all&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;stories&amp;nbsp;of her childhood. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just by opening the box, her childhood memories would flood back into her brain as she sipped the&amp;nbsp;coffee that she loved.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Next, she could open the gift box containing all of the memories of her teen years. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would carefully take them from the box and drape them around her neck&amp;nbsp;and in a flash, all of those memories would be hers again on this special Christmas day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Then, she would open the&amp;nbsp;next three boxes. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Those boxes would have the memories of her 20's, 30's and 40's wrapped in white tissue paper. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would open&amp;nbsp;the boxes&amp;nbsp;one at a time and have all of those memories&amp;nbsp;drift back into her mind&amp;nbsp;while&amp;nbsp;sitting in the light of her shining, twinkling Christmas tree. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The next gift box would contain the memories of her husband, her marriage and of her children. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What joy would shine from her face as she looked at them lying in the box and she could remember all of the times they spent together. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would throw the contents of the box into the air and let the memories rain down on her&amp;nbsp;and bask in the glow of their love and remember each of them once again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The last gift box would hold the memories of&amp;nbsp;our parents, her sisters and&amp;nbsp;her brother. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would smile and hold the box to her heart and remember the love that we all share. She could take each memory out and hold it in her hands. She could&amp;nbsp;throw the memories around like balls,&amp;nbsp;bouncing them from the floor to the ceilings while laughing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her eyes would be shining and brimming with tears because she could remember her life and the love that was shared at Christmas time and the rest of the year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;On this special Christmas morning...The morning of miracles, Peggy could have a miracle for one day. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;For this one special Christmas Day, Peggy would get 7 beautiful&amp;nbsp;boxes. Each box containing the gift of the remembering&amp;nbsp;her life. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would open all of "The Memory Place Store" gifts that were&amp;nbsp;carefully wrapped in beautiful paper and colorful bows. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She could unwrap her past and present and remember. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She would have&amp;nbsp;one day to remember what it is like to love and be loved.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy would know&amp;nbsp;on Christmas&amp;nbsp;day morning&amp;nbsp;that even though her life is disappearing...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My love for her will never disappear! We gave one another the gift of our love for many Christmases.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just because she cannot remember.... doesn't mean that I will forget!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life may end, times spent together may end&amp;nbsp;but ....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Love remembered at Christmas and through the year will never end!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Merry Christmas, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6438988505362095534?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6438988505362095534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6438988505362095534' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6438988505362095534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6438988505362095534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/12/going-back-to-memory-place-store.html' title='GOING BACK TO &amp;quot;THE MEMORY PLACE&amp;quot; STORE.'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3374345080979403296</id><published>2006-12-02T05:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Margaret Mead said:&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Often... sisters become each other's chosen and most happy companions.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In addition to their shared memories of childhood and of their relationship to each others children, they share the memories of the same home, the same homemaking style, and the same small prejudices about housekeeping the carry the echoes of their mother's voice.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Dear Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten that I was your treasured companion.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten the shared memories of our childhood.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten your children and mine.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten the memories of our home at 1805 St. Charles Court.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten how mother decorated for Christmas and her famous Thanksgiving dinner.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten mother's voice saying...don't open an umbrella in the house,&amp;nbsp;go out the same door that you came in, don't be a boys proving ground, always remember your Colley pride, blood is thicker than water, always call and come home and many other sayings.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am sad that you have forgotten mothers voice and mine as well.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But Peggy....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am glad that you had those things for a precious, few years.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You might have forgotten in your mind but I know that those memories will&amp;nbsp;remain in your soul for....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;They&amp;nbsp;will always remain&amp;nbsp;in mine!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Merry Christmas 2006.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3374345080979403296?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3374345080979403296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3374345080979403296' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3374345080979403296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3374345080979403296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/12/mothers-and-daughters.html' title='MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-748914672148682643</id><published>2006-11-29T06:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOST ME</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;There was an article about Alzheimer's disease in our Monday paper.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The title was...'I have lost myself'&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When I first started writing this journal about Peggy, she made this statement to me, I lost&amp;nbsp;me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NOVEMBER&amp;nbsp;4th 2003&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy said something today that gave me chills and made me cry. I asked her how she was doing and she answered in a loud, scared voice.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She said... M. L......I lost Me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I asked her how she was and if she was going anywhere today ( her sitter takes her out every afternoon).&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She said, I don't know...I don't know and sounded so scared.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I assured her that it was O K and not to worry.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She said, all the babies were there and so was Barbara ( sister who lives in Atlanta ).&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Barbara is not there and I knew it.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp; told her that I loved her today and she said, I know and I love you too.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, she said, I can't go anywhere.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;said why Not, Peggy?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She replied...I can't go anywhere because I HAVE LOST ME!!!!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The&amp;nbsp;Long Goodbye to my Sister, my Friend continues every day!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;ML&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That entry was made in 2003 after Peggy had been losing her "self" for quite sometime. She was still able to communicate and let me know how she was doing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, she is really lost.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is lost forever and as hard as I try........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I cannot find her!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The reason that I cannot find my sister was discovered by Alois Alzheimer 100 years ago&amp;nbsp;this November.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Article by David Shenk. The author of The Forgetting: Alzheimer's, Portrait of an Epidemic&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;( abridged by Mary Louise Ross Harris)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alois Alzheimer was a 42 year old German psychiatrist and neuropathologist.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;He shocked his colleagues with his description of one woman's autopsied brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The woman was named Aguste&amp;nbsp;Deter. Five years earlier, her husband had admitted her to Alzheimer's psychiatric hospital in Frankfort, Germany with&amp;nbsp; disturbing set of symptoms: memory trouble, aphasia ( loss of the ability to use words), confusion, bursts of anger and paranoia.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When she died in April of 1906 at the age of 55, Alzheimer was able to look inside her brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Ernest Leitz and Carl Zeiss had just invented the first distortion free microscopes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Franz Nissl had revolutionized tissue-staining, making various cell constituents stand out, opening up what was characterized as "a new era" of the study ofbrain cells and tissues using various colored stains.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer studied the frozen tissues of Aguste Deter's brain at a magnification of several hundred times and he finally saw the disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It looked like measles or chicken pox of the brain. The cortex was speckled with crusty brown clumps ( we now call them plaques) too many to count. They varied in size, shape and texture and seemed to be a hodgepodge of granules and short, crooked threads, as if they were sticky magnets for microscopic trash.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The plaques were nestled between the neurons, blocking their communication with one another.&amp;nbsp;Alzheimer could see them with any stain at all but they showed up best in a blend of&amp;nbsp;magenta red, indigo carmine and picric acid.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A different stain revealed what Alzheimer called, " a tangled bundle of fibrils" ( weedy, menacing strands of rope bundled densely together). These tangles grew inside the nerve cells, strangling them together.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alois Alzheimer had discovered that Aguste Deter had not lost herself.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Rather, her "self" was taken from her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Thank You...Alois Alzheimer!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's brain is the description of Aguste Deter's brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy told me years ago that she was losing herself and the way that she talked to me, I knew that in some way, she felt responsible for her condition. She tried so many things to get her function back.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She was ashamed and embarrassed that her memory was failing and that she would get lost driving. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Oh Peggy! I wish that you could understand me today!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was not your fault! You did not lose yourself!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Your "self" was taken from you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You are too far advanced to remember who you were but Peggy....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember you...just like you were before Alzheimer's disease took your mind from you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I made a promise to you before you completely forgot your life and I am keeping that promise.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am writing about what this disease has done to us, to&amp;nbsp;your family&amp;nbsp;and to&amp;nbsp;everyone who knew the Peggy Jane that we knew.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Your brain&amp;nbsp;was taken from you but the "you" that is in our hearts will always be....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-748914672148682643?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/748914672148682643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=748914672148682643' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/748914672148682643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/748914672148682643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-lost-me.html' title='I LOST ME'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-693491401919876563</id><published>2006-11-21T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEMORIES...THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I think that memory has three parts...........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The Good, The Bad, The Ugly.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's memory has been erased and she doesn't have to deal with the three phases any longer. Or does she?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What happened yesterday or an hour ago is gone from her brain, or is it?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Does she&amp;nbsp;have to deal with the good, the bad or the ugly of her memory?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If she does,&amp;nbsp;how does she&amp;nbsp;cope with the flood of thoughts that can sometimes be frightening?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Personally, I like to remember all the good things that are stored in my memory. I would just as well have the bad and ugly erased.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But the truth is that we learn so much more from the bad and the ugly.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Have you ever thought about how memory works in our minds?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We RECALL good memories and this takes&amp;nbsp;thought&amp;nbsp;as we&amp;nbsp;pull the good memories to the front of our&amp;nbsp;mind. The bad and ugly memories just pop into our minds at any time....uninvited.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Every time I get on an airplane to fly, a bad memory floods my mind, no matter how hard I try to forget that near crash. The memory is burned into my mind and only comes out to haunt when I arrive at an airport. I don't have to try and recall it...it is just there...uninvited. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that Peggy's good memories have been erased but do the bad and ugly memories still come into her mind uninvited?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have also wondered if she dreams at night. Does she have bad dreams occasionally like everyone else or are they gone as well?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have so many unanswered questions about what Alzheimer's disease does to the brain. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hope that the bad and ugly memories in Peggy's mind have been erased along with the good ones.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hope that just like a new born baby...her memory and mind is clear except for the love, care and food that she needs at the moment.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hope this is true because how could she understand the sudden, re -lived fear that accompanies a bad memory?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When I relive a bad or ugly memory, I can reassure myself that it is over and not real in my today world.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What about Peggy? Does she still have bad and ugly memories that visit her.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Uninvited??&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy and wish only good&amp;nbsp;thoughts when you have flashes of memory.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I pray&amp;nbsp;that only good memories are present in your mind&amp;nbsp;on the ocassional days that you do remember.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I pray the the bad and ugly memories have been erased never to come and visit you...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Uninvited.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-693491401919876563?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/693491401919876563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=693491401919876563' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/693491401919876563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/693491401919876563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/11/memoriesthe-good-bad-ugly.html' title='MEMORIES...THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4425434940663475522</id><published>2006-11-17T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MESS WITH MY SISTER...MESS WITH ME!</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I have learned that you cannot watch someone you love disappear before your eyes and not be affected on a very personal level.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When I forget a name or can't recall something quickly....I am concerned.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned that you cannot remove yourself from the fear of&amp;nbsp; getting Alzheimer's disease or Picks disease but have to find ways to live with the possibility.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned to live with this fear can be debilitating in living your life...if you let it.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My Doctor and good friend has told me that there is a test that I can take to know&amp;nbsp;my possibilities concerning the diseases. He also said that if the test came back positive that it was no guarantee that I would develop the diseases.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I gave having&amp;nbsp;the test long&amp;nbsp; and serious thought and have decided not to have the test.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought...What would I do different if I consented to the test and they came back positive?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My answer was... nothing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Many areas&amp;nbsp;of my life&amp;nbsp;have had considerable growth since I started watching Peggy disappear.&amp;nbsp; I have learned to slow down and live in the minute, the hour and the day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;don't worry about what people think&amp;nbsp;of me like I used to.&amp;nbsp; I don't worry if everyone&amp;nbsp;doesn't like me like I used to.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, I am comfortable with knowing that everyone will not like me or approve of who I am and what I do and that is all right.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned because of Peggy journey, that each day is truly a gift.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned that there are no guarantees in life no matter how hard you try.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No guarantee&lt;/SPAN&gt; that our&amp;nbsp;health will always be good and that life will always play&amp;nbsp;fair. It is not a scary possibility to me but a simple reality. A reality that reminds me to live today... to not&amp;nbsp;let yesterday and tomorrow rule who I am today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life and health have not been fair to Peggy but because of her struggles...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have learned how to live.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Because of her struggles, I have learned to live every day and every minute.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know in my heart that if I ever start to disappear...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have a husband, children, a brother and&amp;nbsp;two other sister's who will walk the path with me even if I&amp;nbsp; forget who they were in my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAN A SISTER....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;HOW WE GREW UP.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAN A SISTER WHO OUR CHILDHOOD FRIENDS WERE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAN A SISTER WHAT OUR FAVORITEGAMES WERE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAT A SISTER WHO OUR FIRST LOVES WERE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAN A SISTER WHAT OUR&amp;nbsp; FIRST HURTS WERE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAN A SISTER....OUR LIFE HISTORY AND LIFE PRESENT.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;NO ONE KNOWS BETTER THAN A SISTER.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;THAT I&amp;nbsp;WILL NEED THEM IF&amp;nbsp;I EVER&amp;nbsp;START TO DISAPPEAR!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is our baby sister and we will continue to be there for her&amp;nbsp;even though we are all miles apart.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We are there for Peggy in&amp;nbsp;love as we were when we grew up together.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Our motto was then and is now...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;MESS WITH MY SISTER...MESS WITH ME!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4425434940663475522?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4425434940663475522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4425434940663475522' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4425434940663475522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4425434940663475522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/11/mess-with-my-sistermess-with-me.html' title='MESS WITH MY SISTER...MESS WITH ME!'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6903423540166018968</id><published>2006-11-11T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FROM THIS SIDE OF ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;CAN YOU MEASURE THE WORTH OF A SUNBEAM,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;THE WORTH OF A TREASURED SMILE,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;THE VALUE OF LOVE AND OF GIVING,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;THE THINGS THAT MAKE LIFE WORTHWHILE?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;( Anna Garnett Schultz)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I received a mail recently that suggested that I didn't understand what it was like to be a full time care giver. The mail also said that my journal was only about my feelings and&amp;nbsp;hasn't helped anyone at all, especially my sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will agree that I am not a full time care giver.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will also agree that my words are about my feelings as I watch Peggy&amp;nbsp;disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I must also agree that writing this journal has done nothing to help Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My writing is totally selfish, I understand that very well.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But I do hope that by keeping this journal, I have put a light on what it feels like to watch someone you love disappear. A light on&amp;nbsp; the devastation of losing someone you love who is still living and breathing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;A&amp;nbsp;small light&amp;nbsp;on what it feels like from this side of the disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Not as a full time care giver, which would be a difficult task but as........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A sister, who loves her sister and continues to struggle with a mountain of feelings as I try to let her go with all the dignity and strength that I possess.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am amazed by the courage and tireless efforts of full time care givers who work every day, giving care to loved ones who are dying from many diseases and not just Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am Peggy's sister and I love her and I will continue to write about my struggle and my feelings as I continue to....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Watch Her...Disappear!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that you love me and are proud of me and that is all that really matters!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6903423540166018968?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6903423540166018968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6903423540166018968' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6903423540166018968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6903423540166018968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/11/from-this-side-of-alzheimer-disease.html' title='FROM THIS SIDE OF ALZHEIMER&amp;#39;S DISEASE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3384126879640286552</id><published>2006-11-07T05:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VOTE TODAY.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;WE HAVE A DUTY TO PERFORM TODAY....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;WE VOTE AS A FREE NATION.... &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;VOTE TODAY BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY PEOPLE WHO CANNOT GO TO THE POLLS AND&amp;nbsp;VOTE...&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;&amp;nbsp;BECAUSE&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=6&gt;THEY&amp;nbsp;HAVE FORGOTTEN ........&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=5&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3384126879640286552?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3384126879640286552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3384126879640286552' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3384126879640286552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3384126879640286552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/11/vote-today.html' title='VOTE TODAY.........'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5614569639821553573</id><published>2006-10-30T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NO POWER</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;We&amp;nbsp; were supposed to turn our clocks back on Saturday night in Ohio. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The big...Fall Back.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We never got the chance to&amp;nbsp;change our clocks&amp;nbsp;because our power went off at 3:00 pm and didn't come on again until 5:00 am the next morning.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was very quiet in the house with no television, computer or radio. When night came, it was dark inside the house and dark outside as well.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One never notices the power in our homes until it is gone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I forgot how our senses are bombarded with the sights and sounds of our modern world. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alone in the dark, I found myself with....... me. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There were no distractions to&amp;nbsp;keep my mind busy and to keep me from being alone and thinking.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I learned that being without power every once in a while is a good thing because it forced&amp;nbsp;me to&amp;nbsp;be with me with&amp;nbsp;no&amp;nbsp;outside distractions.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It forced me&amp;nbsp;to take charge and find ways to be comfortable in my home without power to light my night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought about how&amp;nbsp;the power in Peggy's brain is being shut off&amp;nbsp;a little more every day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was able to find flash lights and lanterns to light the night in my home.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy cannot do that for herself. Her power is turned off and she has no way of taking charge of her situation.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I decided to use the time without electrical power, as a time for reflection and to get to know me again.&amp;nbsp;I knew that eventually, the power will be restored and my life would go on as usual.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I found that after a&amp;nbsp;period of adjustment,&amp;nbsp; I was comfortable in the dark with no television, radio or computer to keep&amp;nbsp;me company.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There was nothing to keep&amp;nbsp;me from being with the one person that&amp;nbsp;I really need to get to know again....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When our power came back on and the darkness of the house was gone and it was bright again, I was the first one to shout...ALRIGHT!!!!!!!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love the light in our home but it was good to sit in the dark...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just using the time to get to know me&amp;nbsp;again and thinking of Peggy. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is lost in the dark with no power trucks and brave people to work through the night to restore the power to her brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My prayer for Peggy during this black out was that she is comfortable in the dark of Alzheimers disease and is not afraid to live in the night of the disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still struggle with the knowledge that there is nothing that I can do to restore the power to her brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, I need to find the balance between my need to fix things for her and just being comfortable to sit in the dark.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I cannot restore the power to&amp;nbsp;Peggy's brain no matter how&amp;nbsp;much I wish that I could.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So....................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I sit in the dark place&amp;nbsp;of my mind with wonderful memories&amp;nbsp;of&amp;nbsp;Peggy to light my night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5614569639821553573?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5614569639821553573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5614569639821553573' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5614569639821553573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5614569639821553573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/10/no-power.html' title='NO POWER'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4531088285448932920</id><published>2006-10-26T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A LETTER FROM MY SISTER, BARBARA</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;(&amp;nbsp;Shared with Barbara's permission)&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Dear Mary Louise,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Ray and I&amp;nbsp; visited with Peggy&amp;nbsp;in the assisted living home last weekend.&amp;nbsp; I still have not processed all of it yet.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. She is the youngest one in the complex only 58 years old.&amp;nbsp; Everyone else was in their 80's and 90's.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;When we arrived, she was sitting at the nurses station and the staff told her she had visitors and she smiled as she was getting up from her chair.&amp;nbsp; She laughed some too.&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;She really enjoyed Ray because he joked with her.&amp;nbsp; Brooke and Richard arrived around 1:30 PM.&amp;nbsp; She laughed when Brooke told something&amp;nbsp;that happened&amp;nbsp;when she was a small child.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;Peggy&amp;nbsp; knows some things, too.&amp;nbsp; I could say Peggy...come sit here and she would.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;We took her out of the complex but had her back by dinner time.&amp;nbsp; At lunch after I showed her how to feed herself she did it for a while. But I had to feed her at supper.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;I could go on and on about the visit but I still need to process the time spent with her.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;On Sunday, when we arrived she was sitting at the dinner table staring out the window and it didn't matter that we were there because she just kept staring outside.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; After 30 minutes, I told Ray I needed to leave because I was starting to cry and feared I would break completely down. She turned when I left and just looked at me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;It was so hard to leave her there but I know it is the best place for her now.&amp;nbsp; How her husband does it, I do not know but only know that God has him completely in his hands.&amp;nbsp; It has to break his heart.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp; Sunday night when I called him, he was brushing her hair.&amp;nbsp; He gets her hair done each week and tries to keep her looking nice.&amp;nbsp; She would be horrified to know how she looks now.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ray was pleasantly surprise about how well she looked and I was too.&amp;nbsp; She hasn't changed much in the way of how looks when I saw her in July 2005.&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;I know God has her now and am grateful that she accepted Christ when she was young because if she had not done that,&amp;nbsp; I don't know if I could handle everything.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;There were good times spent with her and I am grateful for that.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;She constantly whispers and you cannot tell what she is saying because it is all in her mind but she tries to keep a beat with her foot when she hears music. When I asked her if she liked to sing she would whisper some type of song.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;There were some funny things that happened on Sat with other people in the home.&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;She liked my watch so I left it with her along with an ALABAMA bracelet&amp;nbsp; and a sisters bracelet too.&amp;nbsp; She had the watch on the table when we got there Sunday morning.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;She wasn't smiling much on Sunday and just sat there staring out of the window.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The only way I can describe it was that she looked "hollow".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;She use to sing Amazing Grace and Jesus Love Me but she can't now.&amp;nbsp; When we left her, we took her up front and a lady was sitting there with a Broadman Baptist Hymnal in her lap.&amp;nbsp; I told her Peggy use to sing Amazing Grace and Jesus Loves Me.&amp;nbsp; She looked straight at me and said "that song... Jesus Loves Me says it all!&amp;nbsp; Then added that she was Presbyterian and so were her parents and her brothers and sisters. &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;Peggy loved music especially country music.&amp;nbsp; At Stepping Stone, where Peggy is, they play classical music and what they&amp;nbsp; played, sounded like funeral music to me. I wanted to put country music on for Peggy. &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;We stayed with her from 11 AM to 6:30 PM on Saturday.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;It is heartbreaking only because she is so young! But she is where she needs to be and Ricky takes such loving care of her and she smiles when she sees him.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;She didn't&amp;nbsp; know who we were but knows Ricky is someone who comes to see her everyday at a certain time. &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;I believe she might have recognized my name.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;Ricky has decorated her room and it looks so nice.&amp;nbsp; He has the family pictures set out, too.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;ML, her doll is one her bed and the staffer said that she will sometimes hold it.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;took a picture of her with the doll and amazingly, they have the same haircut and color. I have several pictures of her with "her baby" and will send them to you.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;Again, our visit on Saturday was good but it was still hard to leave her.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;It makes you re- evaluate your life and has taught me that time is so short. &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;Peggy&amp;nbsp;still has a sense of humor and laughed when she hit her head on a handle while trying to get into the car when we took her for a ride.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;Another note...since Ricky was out of town another male patient, sitting at her table got her napkin out and placed her silverware so she could reach it and told me that her husband was out of town and he had to help her at the table.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;So sweet don't you think?&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;BR&gt;It was a good visit and when I talked to Ricky Sunday night, he was combing her hair after he had taken her to the rest room.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;Also, I noticed one other thing....while she was eating lunch she didn't spill any&amp;nbsp;food on herself!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV&gt;I do that all the time!!!!&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;With love, Barbara&lt;BR&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4531088285448932920?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4531088285448932920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4531088285448932920' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4531088285448932920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4531088285448932920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/10/letter-from-my-sister-barbara.html' title='A LETTER FROM MY SISTER, BARBARA'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8442880024589090658</id><published>2006-10-24T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THROUGH PEGGYS EYES</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;We just returned from an 8 day cruise of the Eastern Caribbean.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We had a relaxing, wonderful time on the ship and my husband and I enjoyed being together.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We visited the same ports that Peggy and her husband visited on their last cruise together.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I enjoyed sitting on our balcony and looking at the sea as we skimmed the top of the blue water.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One evening, I sat on the balcony in the early hours of the morning.&amp;nbsp;I watched the black night turn into a blanket of stars lighting up the sea. I thought of Peggy cruising the same waters when her mind was crisp and her eyes could take in all of the night and see all of the stars.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I felt a strong connection to her that evening. I knew that she had seen the same ocean and&amp;nbsp;the same stars and ports from the balcony of her cabin so many years earlier.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I felt a tug of sadness in my heart&amp;nbsp;because I&amp;nbsp;knew that I could never share my memories of this cruise with her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was on the deck as we slid into the Port of St. Thomas. I looked at the beautiful landscape and knew that Peggy had seen the same sights on her cruise. I&amp;nbsp;felt close to her as we walked the streets of St. Thomas.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I thought of Peggy when we reached&amp;nbsp; St. Maarten and glided into the port.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was seeing all of this beauty through my eyes but also....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Through Peggy's eyes......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I felt&amp;nbsp;a connection to her as I took in the beauty of the Islands for I was looking and seeing the same things that she had seen years earlier.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought of the excitement that she must have felt because of the excitement that I felt with each day at sea and each port of call.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was comforted just knowing that I was seeing everything on this cruise through....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's eyes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8442880024589090658?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8442880024589090658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8442880024589090658' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8442880024589090658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8442880024589090658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/10/through-peggys-eyes.html' title='THROUGH PEGGYS EYES'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2721794491685929079</id><published>2006-10-12T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FROZEN EYES</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy's eyes&amp;nbsp;have told the story of her descent into Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Before Alzheimer's disease entered her mind, her eyes were green and sparkled with light and laughter.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When she began to notice that something was wrong, her eyes grew serious as she submitted to test after test with no diagnosis.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Time passed and fear showed from the window of her soul. She knew something was wrong but did not know what was happening to her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, I remember when her eyes began to show serious fear because she had started to forget major events and appointments.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We all do that kind of thing in our daily lives and it is perfectly normal. The difference&amp;nbsp;with Peggy was that she didn't remember that she had forgotten.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The eyes can show a range of emotions.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The eyes&amp;nbsp;reveal what Alzheimer's disease&amp;nbsp;does to a mind. It blocks out the light&amp;nbsp;of the brain and the eyes grow dark and blank.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy's eyes are no longer green and there is no sparkle left in them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's disease has frozen&amp;nbsp;her brain and&amp;nbsp;her&amp;nbsp;eyes have turned cold. The stare from&amp;nbsp;her eyes is....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Blank.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But I know that deep inside of her mind, there is still some of the Peggy that I knew......Still some of the light and laughter left somewhere deep inside of her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Only..............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is frozen and has no way to thaw and work its way to the windows of her soul.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2721794491685929079?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2721794491685929079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2721794491685929079' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2721794491685929079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2721794491685929079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/10/frozen-eyes.html' title='FROZEN EYES'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4832891636680372778</id><published>2006-10-08T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOW</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, when I think of Peggy, I am looking through a window pane&amp;nbsp;in my mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am looking through that window and seeing the Peggy that I used to know.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Looking through&amp;nbsp;my window, I see her healthy and laughing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Looking through&amp;nbsp;my window, I see her talking with emotion.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Looking through the window in my mind, I see her the way she was and not the way she is today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, something began to happen as I gazed through the panes of&amp;nbsp;my memory glass.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's disease has turned off the sun and is drawing the curtains on&amp;nbsp;Peggy's life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am aware that I see what I want to see in the window of my mind about my sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy&amp;nbsp;is getting harder to see through the glass of the real world window.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am glad that the sun always shines and the curtains are always open in the window of my mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can always go to my memory, open the window&amp;nbsp;and see Peggy&amp;nbsp;laughing and enjoying life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Windows are wonderful things. They keep the cold out and the warm in......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Windows let us&amp;nbsp;view the outside world without experiencing the extreme weather conditions on our skin.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;The window in my mind keeps my&amp;nbsp;memories of Peggy just beyond the clear glass panes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The window in my mind&amp;nbsp;keeps&amp;nbsp;the memories of my sister....warm.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The window in my mind&amp;nbsp;keeps&amp;nbsp;my memories of Peggy safe from the cold of Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'll see you outside of my window today! My curtains are open and I have polished the window panes. I will open my window and let the fresh air inside.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'll see you Peggy........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In the&amp;nbsp;window of my mind.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The way you were.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4832891636680372778?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4832891636680372778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4832891636680372778' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4832891636680372778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4832891636680372778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/10/outside-of-my-window.html' title='OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOW'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4938804789057460164</id><published>2006-09-29T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A MORNING CUP OF COFFEE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Dear Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was thinking of you this morning as I drank my coffee.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When we got together, we spent&amp;nbsp;a lot of&amp;nbsp;time talking as we lingered over our morning coffee.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm sorry that you have forgotten that memory of us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm sorry that you have forgotten...us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My heart hurt this morning as I looked into the hot, dark liquid,&amp;nbsp;wishing that&amp;nbsp;it could tell me the secrets that are locked in your mind now.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I watched the surface of the coffee&amp;nbsp;as it moved and shimmered with the morning light.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There&amp;nbsp;was no magic on the&amp;nbsp;surface of the coffee&amp;nbsp;that would help me understand why you were chosen for this disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I just know that I miss you and.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am missing you.... Remembering&amp;nbsp;me this morning.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Most of all Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will always love you and remember the little things that we did as sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Like, drinking a morning cup of coffee together and celebrating the day and being together.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We are more than just miles apart now but that is OK because..&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I can remember for both of us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4938804789057460164?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4938804789057460164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4938804789057460164' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4938804789057460164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4938804789057460164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/09/morning-cup-of-coffee.html' title='A MORNING CUP OF COFFEE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5802623756931488911</id><published>2006-09-25T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHISPERING HOPE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I was privileged to hear Peggy's voice on Saturday night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was not the strong voice with a musical lilt that I remembered. It was a soft, desperate sounding whisper. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She whispered in a fast monotone sound.&amp;nbsp;While she whispered, there were no breaths that I could detect.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I kept telling her who I was and that I loved her but the whispering never stopped. She never seemed to hear my words.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Was she trying to tell me something? We used to whisper when we were children and the lights had been turned out at night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Or, if we were in a place where talking was not allowed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Was she reaching out to me in her whispers? Did I miss something in her soft, rapid words that I needed to hear to help her in some way?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;After I hung up the phone a barrage of memories filled my mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All the whispering of our life time together came flooding back.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When we were girls we would harmonize while singing songs.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Once a month, we would go&amp;nbsp;to a park near our home&amp;nbsp;and sing for&amp;nbsp;a Senior Citizens group.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We started off our show with a song from Fats Domino called "I'm Walking" and we even added choreography. We always ended our show with a song called "Whispering Hope".&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Saturday, while listening to Peggys rapid whispering on the phone, the lyrics of&amp;nbsp;"Whispering Hope"&amp;nbsp;floated back from the stage&amp;nbsp;of Harrison Park where we stood and sang&amp;nbsp;so long ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could hear us singing that song to the people seated in the audience.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I just&amp;nbsp;hope that Peggys whispering yesterday contained the hope of that song.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Here are the words to "Whispering Hope" and I sing them this morning for Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WHISPERING HOPE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;SOFT AS THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; BREATHING A LESSON UNHEARD&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;HOPE WITH A GENTLE PERSUASION&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; WHISPERS HER COMFORTING WORD&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WAIT, TILL THE DARKNESS IS OVER&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WAIT, TILL THE TEMPEST IS DONE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;HOPE FOR THE SUNSHINE TOMORROW&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; AFTER THE SHOWER IS GONE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WHISPERING HOPE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; OH HOW WELCOME THY VOICE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;MAKING MY HEART &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; IN ITS SORROW REJOICE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;IF IN THE DUSK OF THE TWILIGHT&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; DIM BE THE REGION AFAR&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WILL NOT THE DEEPENING DARKNESS&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; BRIGHTEN THE GLIMMERING STAR?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;THEN, WHEN THE NIGHT IS UPON US&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WHY SHOULD THE HEART SINK AWAY?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WHEN THE DARK MIDNIGHT IS OVER&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; WATCH FOR THE BREAKING OF DAY.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WHISPERING HOPE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; OH HOW WELCOME THY VOICE&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;MAKING MY HEART IN ITS SORROW REJOICE.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;After all those years of singing that song with Peggy, I finally understand the message of the song.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy whispered to me yesterday and I remembered the words to a song we sang so many years ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A song that made my heavy heart feel lighter after hearing her give me what I needed yesterday....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WHISPERING HOPE!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was nice to hear your whispering hope. Thanks!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There is No time like the old time.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;when you and I were young!&amp;nbsp; Oliver Wendell Holmes&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5802623756931488911?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5802623756931488911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5802623756931488911' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5802623756931488911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5802623756931488911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/09/whispering-hope.html' title='WHISPERING HOPE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8964861322800647855</id><published>2006-09-18T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CLIMBING THE GRIEF LADDER</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;If you have followed the entries of my journal about Peggy, you know that my emotions run the entire gamut of feelings.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I feel hopeful and then down.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I feel happy and then sad.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can go from zero to ten in one hour of thinking about her and how much I miss having her in my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That is the one truth about grief.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is never truly.......... Over.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We learn with time, to manage&amp;nbsp;the grief&amp;nbsp;more constructively. We learn to expect the highs and the lows.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We learn that we cannot change the facts of a situation.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We essentially learn to live in the mist of our grief and survive the ups and the downs.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy has Alzheimer's and she is disappearing a little more every day. I can't change that for her no matter how much I want to change it.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If, I can't change this fact, I must learn ways to deal with the reality.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes...Reality just isn't the way we planned it to be.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Reality is real, it is the truth.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So, I will continue my journey&amp;nbsp;up the steps of grief.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;At first, it is like trying to climb a&amp;nbsp;ladder where the steps are placed to high and to far apart for the length of my legs.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;leap from the first step to the next, with tired heart and no energy. Finally,&amp;nbsp;I manage to leap to the next step,&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;land&amp;nbsp;on&amp;nbsp;my knees with&amp;nbsp;my fingernails gripping the step, one level up. And it goes on until&amp;nbsp;I reach the top step. When I reach the top of the ladder, I look around and am proud of my climb.&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;take a deep breath and think&amp;nbsp;that I&amp;nbsp;am doing just fine. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then&amp;nbsp;I hear a song, read a sentence, see a picture and I can see and hear Peggy. Her absence is painfully real again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All of a sudden...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am back on the bottom step of the ladder&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;am on&amp;nbsp;another climb&amp;nbsp;up the ladder of grief.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The difference is, with time...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The steps do not seem as tall or far apart and that makes the climb a little easier but....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that my climb&amp;nbsp;up the grief&amp;nbsp;ladder will last for the rest of my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know this because I will never stop missing my sister as long as I have life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So....... I will climb.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will climb over and over again until I don't have to watch where I am going as I climb the ladder.............&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Because I will know the way.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I Miss You!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8964861322800647855?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8964861322800647855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8964861322800647855' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8964861322800647855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8964861322800647855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/09/climbing-grief-ladder.html' title='CLIMBING THE GRIEF LADDER'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4545812004252940952</id><published>2006-09-14T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BREATHING BACK THROUGH TIME</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy has entered a new phase of Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She has forgotten how to feed herself and must be fed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This disease is interesting in the way it takes a person back through time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When she was a baby, she had to be fed, clothed and taken care of as any baby would be.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy&amp;nbsp;has entered&amp;nbsp;the baby phase.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She has traveled from a mature woman, back through Alzheimer's time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have often wondered what it would be like to travel back through time to another era in history. To see the history that I have lived&amp;nbsp;unfold before my eyes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If I were able to do that, I would have a difficult time not saying...Don't fight that war, don't launch that shuttle, don't&amp;nbsp;go to work or visit the Twin Towers on September 11th 2001.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could change history by giving those warnings. But...would anyone listen?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If I could go back to the first time that I noticed a difference in Peggy, could I have given her a warning for her to get help sooner.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Could I have changed her diagnosis by my early warning?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One day in the future, people will feel sorry for our generation. They will shake their heads and wonder why we didn't know the answer to Alzheimer's and Pick's disease sooner. Just as we look back at the millions of children who died from Measles, polio and other childhood diseases.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My Grandfather died from Gallbladder surgery in the 50's. Now, it is a routine surgery with tiny surgical wounds.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One day in the future, Alzheimer's disease will be a fixable disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But for now, in our time...we are losing intelligent, wonderful people who continue to travel back through the time of Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;They travel from an adult with hope and promise for a bright future to a small infant who must be taken care of day and night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As Peggy travels back through the time Alzheimer's has given to her,&amp;nbsp;she will not only forget how to feed herself....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She will forget how to breathe.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One day in the future, there will be no Alzheimer's and Pick's disease...One day....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But for now, until that day comes....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Breathe, Peggy, Breathe.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Each breath that I take is a prayer for you. A prayer that you will not forget how to breathe today, tomorrow or this year.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Just Breathe.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4545812004252940952?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4545812004252940952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4545812004252940952' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4545812004252940952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4545812004252940952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/09/breathing-back-through-time.html' title='BREATHING BACK THROUGH TIME'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5920703414552613963</id><published>2006-09-11T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SEPTEMBER 11TH 2001---SEPTEMBER 11TH 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I remember this day in 2001.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was watching the television when the second plane hit the tower in New York City.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember thinking....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm glad that Peggy doesn't know what is happening today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I'm glad that she is inside of her mind and isn't effected by the outside world.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was&amp;nbsp;glad for Peggy that day but sad for me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I couldn't call her and share my feelings. I couldn't tell her that I was scared.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can't call her today, five years later. I can't tell her about the scared places in my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Even so....I'm glad that she was spared September 11th, 2001.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss sharing with you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It doesn't have to be a day like September 11th to make me miss our sister sharing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It just has to be...............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;A regular&amp;nbsp;day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5920703414552613963?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5920703414552613963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5920703414552613963' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5920703414552613963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5920703414552613963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/09/september-11th-2001-september-11th-2006.html' title='SEPTEMBER 11TH 2001---SEPTEMBER 11TH 2006'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4716709763670834894</id><published>2006-08-29T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DIGNITY AND GRACE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I had an interesting thing happen to me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I went to a new dentist and was sitting in the waiting room looking at a magazine.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A woman came in and sat across from me. I said hello and went back to reading the magazine.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She started a conversation and we began to talk.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She said that her mother had Alzheimer's disease and she was going to visit her later in the day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I told her about Peggy and&amp;nbsp;that she, also had Alzheimer's disease.&amp;nbsp;I told her that I knew every case was different&amp;nbsp;but that I&amp;nbsp;understood some of the pain that she was experiencing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She got tears in her eyes and agreed with me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She was called&amp;nbsp;into the&amp;nbsp;dentist office and I continued to read the magazine while waiting to be called for my appointment.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I did not see the woman again while I was there.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;After my appointment,&amp;nbsp;I went to the window to check out. The woman checking me out said; Barbara, the lady you were talking to commented on what you said about her mother.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She said that you looked so together that it shocked her to hear about your sister and that you must not be very close to her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She said that you looked like someone that never had anything bad to happen.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I really wasn't sure how to take what she said.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have thought about her statement. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Some people carry all of the pain of their lives on their faces.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You know immediately when you meet them that they are dealing with great pain and suffering.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Some people carry the pain and suffering in their hearts.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It does not make the pain of watching Peggy disappear any less of a trama because I do not carry the pain on my face.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Every one deals with pain the best way that they can.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Judgement can be hurtful.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Maybe, I should stand on a corner, beat my chest and cry...I'm watching my sister....disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Or just maybe, I approach my pain in a different way.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp; carry my pain inside and write to let it out.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy would be embarrassed and angry with me if she thought that the pain she has caused by disappearing had etched lines into my face and showed every day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My pain about Peggy is real but just not on display for everyone to see when they first meet me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I only share the depth of my pain with people that I trust to listen and people who will not judge the level of my pain by the look on my face.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I hear the words of my Mother and Grand Mother and have integrated them into my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;"I don't care what happens to you in your life. You can still smile through your tears. Comb your hair and&amp;nbsp;put on your clothes.&amp;nbsp; Put on a little lipstick and a little rouge. You can handle anything that comes your way with grace and dignity".&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy and I want you to know that......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I put on my clothes, combed my hair and added a little lipstick and blush. I am smiling as I remember you with all the grace and dignity that I can find.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4716709763670834894?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4716709763670834894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4716709763670834894' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4716709763670834894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4716709763670834894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/08/dignity-and-grace.html' title='DIGNITY AND GRACE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-6728232978958265149</id><published>2006-08-18T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AOL JOURNALS 3RD ANNIVERSARY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;HAPPY 3RD ANNIVERSARY AOL JOURNALS.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG height=168 alt="AOL Journals 3-Year Anniversary Badge" src="http://cdn.digitalcity.com/blogs/aol-journals-3-year-badge-154x168.gif" width=154&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Writing this journal and having the support of so many people in J-Land is helping as I navigate through the grief of...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;WATCHING MY SISTER, PEGGY....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;DISAPPEAR.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Thank you, AOL Journals.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Thank you, to all who read my journal.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Thank you, to all who comment and give me the courage to continue writing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-6728232978958265149?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/6728232978958265149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=6728232978958265149' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6728232978958265149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/6728232978958265149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/08/aol-journals-3rd-anniversary.html' title='AOL JOURNALS 3RD ANNIVERSARY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-8339807284311731325</id><published>2006-08-18T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE DOOR</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp; Have you ever gone to someone's house and expected them to be at home?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You walk up to their front door, ring the bell and wait.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You wait for the door to be opened wide. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You wait for a warm greeting.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You wait for your friend to ask you&amp;nbsp;to come inside and visit.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You stand on the front porch and wait but no one comes to let you inside the house.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You stand there and ring the doorbell again with no response and you find yourself shifting from one foot to the other.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You walk around the house to check and see if perhaps they are in the back yard.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You walk back to the front porch a little confused. Could you have gotten the day wrong?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;No one is home even though they knew that you were coming to visit.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, there has to be a decision on your part. Do you keep standing on the porch and keep knocking or do you turn around, walk down the walk and get in your car and drive away?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This is an illustration of what it is like to visit someone with Alzheimer's or Pick's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that Peggy is home........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know that Peggy is in there but where?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She has forgotten how to open the door to her family and friends.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The lights are on but&amp;nbsp;it appears that&amp;nbsp;no one is at&amp;nbsp;home.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There are days where I wonder what I am doing to myself by continuing to knock on the door of her mind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Should I turn around and leave because she doesn't answer her door?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Should I ?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have thought about this a lot.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have thought about never coming back to the door of her mind only to be turned away by no answer&amp;nbsp;to my call.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have thought about it but could never do it because I know that Peggy is in there somewhere.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Who knows...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I may get lucky again one day and she will open the door to her mind. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That one day when her door to her mind opens wide&amp;nbsp;and she says....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Hi, ML, I knew you would come!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-8339807284311731325?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/8339807284311731325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=8339807284311731325' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8339807284311731325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/8339807284311731325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/08/door.html' title='THE DOOR'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-7688077532044291923</id><published>2006-08-11T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PEGGY STYLE</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;It has been hot and humid here lately.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I step outside&amp;nbsp;of my air conditioned home and hit a wall of heat.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How can it be so hot and feel so wet? &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is not only hot but&amp;nbsp;feels sticky, it is oppressive. The air is so&amp;nbsp;thick with heat and water that I feel like I could chew it or cut it with a knife.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There is no chewing or cutting the wall of heat and humidity that awaits me as I navigate to the outdoors.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I do have options...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could stay in the air conditioned house, be a prisoner of the heat but stay cool and&amp;nbsp;watch the world go by from my safe place.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could&amp;nbsp;go from the cool house to my hot car, turn on the air conditioning and wait for the car to cool so that I could drive the car in cool comfort. Arriving at my destination, I could run&amp;nbsp;through the oppressive heat into&amp;nbsp;a building where I&amp;nbsp;will be&amp;nbsp;be in the air cooled environment again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All of this running to avoid something that is oppressive.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy ran from the oppression of&amp;nbsp;Alzheimer's disease for a while but it caught her just like the heat and humidity catch me no matter what I do to avoid it's consequences.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There is no place to run and no place to hide. We must deal with life as it comes to us. We must do what we can to make a moment better for ourselves and not become a prisoner of our thoughts or of the oppression that we fear awaits us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will do what Peggy did..&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will face what oppresses me. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Something as simple as the heat and humidity or as great as the fears that I hide in my heart..but I will do it in Peggy style.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;With my eyes wide open and my head held high. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am privileged..&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still remember my challenges and my fears. That means that I&amp;nbsp; have control over how I will react to everything that happens around me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy continues to be my teacher.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Even from&amp;nbsp;the dark prison of Alzheimer's disease, where she lives.....In her safe place.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-7688077532044291923?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/7688077532044291923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=7688077532044291923' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7688077532044291923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/7688077532044291923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/08/peggy-style.html' title='PEGGY STYLE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2329532015228003491</id><published>2006-08-01T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE CHA CHA CHA</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Music has always been an important part of my life. I have the radio or stereo on&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;in my home most of the time. A house without music is too quiet for me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A song came floating through the house this morning and made me remember 1805 St. Charles Court. It made me remember cleaning off the table and&amp;nbsp;doing the dishes on a summer night when we were girls.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When we were girls, I signed up for dancing lessons at Harrisson Park. It was a community park close to our house.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The lessons were free and the lasted for four weeks. We learned how to dance the waltz and the cha cha.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;After learning the dances, we decided that the Cha-Cha was the best dance to dance while&amp;nbsp;cleaning off the table after supper was over.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was also the best dance to do while washing and drying the dishes and putting them away.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy would&amp;nbsp;pick up a dish from the table on&amp;nbsp;1. Set it&amp;nbsp;by the&amp;nbsp;sink on 2&amp;nbsp;and cha-cha back to the table for another dish.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I would wash a dish on 1, rinse it on 2 and Cha,cha, cha&amp;nbsp;to put the dish in the wire drain on the sink.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It took us a long time to&amp;nbsp;clean the kitchen on those hot summer nights in Birmingham but it was a lot of fun for both of us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, we are doing a different kind of dance.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is doing the cha cha with another partner but there is no laughter, no excitement, no fun.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She will continue to do this dance until the music stops.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I would love to have the power to go back to 1805 St.Charles Court. To a hot summer night when the cha cha blared from the radio and Peggy and I were dancing the cha cha&amp;nbsp;while&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;doing the dishes.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How quickly the music faded from Peggy's life&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, when a song comes on the radio with a cha cha beat, I stop what I am doing and cha cha for both of us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I miss dancing the cha cha in the kitchen of 1805 St. Charles Court.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;If it is true that memories and sounds of the past residents stay in the walls of a house......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;On a hot&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;summer night, who ever is living in our house on St. Charles Court will swear that they hear the strains of the cha cha while sitting in the kitchen.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;They just can't figure out where the music is coming from....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But I know.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy...Cha, Cha, Cha!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2329532015228003491?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2329532015228003491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2329532015228003491' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2329532015228003491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2329532015228003491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/08/cha-cha-cha.html' title='THE CHA CHA CHA'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3277768131928120913</id><published>2006-07-26T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SEARCHING FOR SIGNAL</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;We have satellite television.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, the screen goes blank even when there are no storms in the area.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It&amp;nbsp; will just go off and in the left&amp;nbsp;hand bottom of the screen,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;a message appears.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The message says...Searching for satellite signal.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It usually doesn't stay off long unless we are in the mist of a storm.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Last night, I was watching a program, the screen went blank and the message appeared.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought about Peggy and how much that message could refer to her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have lost the signal to connect to Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Every once in a while we will connect for a brief moment and then the message appears again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Searching for&amp;nbsp;signal &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;And again,&amp;nbsp;our connection is lost.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3277768131928120913?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3277768131928120913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3277768131928120913' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3277768131928120913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3277768131928120913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/07/searching-for-signal.html' title='SEARCHING FOR SIGNAL'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2578530284645375092</id><published>2006-07-21T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A WHISPER OF HOPE</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT size=4&gt;JULY 21, 2006&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was able to hear Peggy's voice last night. Her husband held to phone to her ear because she has forgotten how to hold the phone.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I told her that I loved her today and I heard a faint whisper of her voice.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is talking to herself a lot now in fast whispers.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wish that I could understand what she is saying. I asked her to talk louder but she just kept whispering at a rapid pace.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was told that she seems happy and smiles a lot. I am thankful for that.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I got a few pictures of her last week at the nursing home. She looks the same but&amp;nbsp;different, if that makes any sense. There is no light from her eyes. Only dark places where her green eyes used to be.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was interesting to see her in the pictures in the&amp;nbsp;nursing home with a room full of gray heads. She looks out of place. A young person among the elderly but she is actually more disabled than most of them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She came back to the phone after I talked with her husband and&amp;nbsp; I said, Peggy, this is Mary Louise and then she said, Hello!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I said, Peggy,&amp;nbsp; I love you, Today!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her husband said she broke into a huge smile.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Does that mean she remembers me?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Does that mean she remembers my voice?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will never know because Alzheimer's disease keeps secrets.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All I know is that my sister is living in the land of Alzheimer's disease and I am not welcome in that world very often.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;received a second of remembering last night, not by voice but by her smile&amp;nbsp;and that&amp;nbsp;has to be&amp;nbsp;enough because a second of remembering is all that she&amp;nbsp;has to&amp;nbsp;give.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It makes me sad to know that she isn't coming back to us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That is a fact of life that the whole family deals with every day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could have cried when I hung up the phone last night. I did tear up but no tears streaming down my face.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I smiled because I thought that Peggy remembered me for a second.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;For one second, Peggy sounded like herself&amp;nbsp;when she said Hello!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2578530284645375092?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2578530284645375092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2578530284645375092' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2578530284645375092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2578530284645375092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/07/whisper-of-hope.html' title='A WHISPER OF HOPE'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5269362665055569398</id><published>2006-07-15T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY SISTER, PEGGY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0 size=5&gt;The desire to be and have a sister.....&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0 size=5&gt;is a desire to know and be known by someone who shares blood and body, history and dreams, common ground and the unknown adventures of the future, darkest secrets and the glassiest beads of truth.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0 size=2&gt;Elizabeth Fishel&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0 size=5&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0 size=5&gt;I Miss You!&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#0000a0&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5269362665055569398?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5269362665055569398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5269362665055569398' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5269362665055569398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5269362665055569398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-sister-peggy.html' title='MY SISTER, PEGGY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5667514903358277722</id><published>2006-07-12T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT IS OUR TEARS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I was driving yesterday and stopped at a red light.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I glanced out of the windows and saw a dark, threatening sky.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I heard thunder rumbling in the distance.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It looked as if the clouds would open at any moment with torrents of rain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was waiting for a down pour and all that happened was big rain drops, a few seconds apart hitting the windshield.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I watched as a big&amp;nbsp;raindrop hit&amp;nbsp;the windshield in a large ball and then tear drops ran down from the splat.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I watched one splat after another hit&amp;nbsp;the windshield.&amp;nbsp;It seemed to me that the splat of water was&amp;nbsp;in shock as it hit and then formed tears that ran away from it's center.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought how much that splat of water reminded me of Alzheimer's disease and how it hit our family.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's&amp;nbsp;disease hit Peggy in a splat&amp;nbsp;and it was a shock to all of us. We watched as it&amp;nbsp;continued to hit her over and over again, like large rain drops falling from the sky.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It continues to hit her every day but Peggy doesn't cry.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is our tears that run down from the splat that Alzheimer's made when it hit Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is our tears that fall as we watch the dark sky over her head.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is our tears that form a lake in our hearts.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is our tears that would drown our spirits if we didn't keep our heads up as we cry.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is our tears that continue to fall as we watch her disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Because Peggy....................&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Has forgotten how to cry!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So, it is our tears that will always cry for Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5667514903358277722?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5667514903358277722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5667514903358277722' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5667514903358277722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5667514903358277722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/07/it-is-our-tears.html' title='IT IS OUR TEARS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-28368068057075003</id><published>2006-07-08T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LITTLE THINGS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Last night I was thinking about Peggy, as I do many nights in the quiet.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It's funny how my mind thinks of the small things about her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Her laugh or the way she would wave her hand while she was talking. The way she told a joke and would laugh through whole&amp;nbsp;joke as she was&amp;nbsp;trying to tell it. I would get more tickled at the way she tried to tell it than the joke itself. The way she would toss her head so that her hair would move, especially when we took pictures. It was our model pose, turn away from the camera and then back. Sometimes, we would just laugh at silly things and we would laugh until we cried.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So many memories of the small things about Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, I still cannot believe that this happened to her. She was the youngest of four girls and so full of life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How? Why?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The same questions that are asked by so many family members as they watch someone they love disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's disease is devastating at any age but why did it strike someone so young, so bright, so active as Peggy?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Why?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy is the youngest patient in the Nursing home where she lives.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life is not fair sometimes and it certainty wasn't fair to Peggy who had so many years ahead of her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That leaves me with questions that no one can answer.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How do I handle her leaving with grace and not only the fear that I too, will develop the disease? &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What Peggy's disappearance has taught me is to live every day as if it was my last. I have learned&amp;nbsp;that each day and each breathe is precious. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I really knew all of those things but I didn't truly understand the significance until ......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I started watching my sister...Disappear!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-28368068057075003?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/28368068057075003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=28368068057075003' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/28368068057075003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/28368068057075003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/07/little-things.html' title='THE LITTLE THINGS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4498124516593088245</id><published>2006-07-04T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY 4TH OF JULY, PEGGY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Dear Peggy,&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I know you do not remember all of our 4th of July's.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you today and I miss knowing that you remember. I am just thankful that you are still alive even though your life and all of it's memories have been erased.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Max Lucado wrote this and it applies to you today.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You are valuable just because you exist.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Not because of what you do or what you have done....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But simply because............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;YOU ARE!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4498124516593088245?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4498124516593088245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4498124516593088245' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4498124516593088245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4498124516593088245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/07/happy-4th-of-july-peggy.html' title='HAPPY 4TH OF JULY, PEGGY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4703091750079189522</id><published>2006-06-28T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DARK CLOUDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;My grief over watching Peggy disappear does not constantly cloud my everyday life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My life is filled with&amp;nbsp;many sunny days.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But every day or so a little black cloud will move over the sun&amp;nbsp;of my day and block out the sunshine. Those are the times&amp;nbsp;when I think of how much I miss having&amp;nbsp;Peggy in my life. When I remember, the&amp;nbsp;thoughts of her block&amp;nbsp;my sun.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, the cloud moves away and the sun shines again in my day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;To stay under the cloud of grief would be too much.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There will be sunshine and dark clouds in my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There will be storms to&amp;nbsp;endure and lightening will streak across my world as long as I live.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That is OK because if it was sunny all of the time...How would&amp;nbsp;I grow as a person?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy and watching her disappear will bring dark clouds and sad times but I refuse to stay seated under the dark clouds.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Some days are sunnier that other days and some days are dark with clouds blocking my view of life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We cannot stop the storms of life but we can decide how we will react to them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will miss Peggy for all of my life !&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But I know her and I know that she would come and hit me over the head if I sat in the shadow of a dark cloud every day.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Because of her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4703091750079189522?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4703091750079189522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4703091750079189522' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4703091750079189522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4703091750079189522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/06/dark-clouds.html' title='DARK CLOUDS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-521054642329809219</id><published>2006-06-25T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'> THE GRIEF RAG</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I have thought about the differences between Alzheimer's disease and Picks disease. There is not much difference and the prognosis is the same. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How was Peggy chosen for the disease because it is a rare disorder?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What made her vulnerable? I ask&amp;nbsp;that question&amp;nbsp;a thousand times.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could ask that question a million&amp;nbsp;times and still not get an answer.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Last night, I thought of all that Peggy has missed during the past years. All the birthdays, all the Christmas', all the special family times. Thinking of this made me cry...again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I could raise my voice and&amp;nbsp;yell that this is not fair!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;This is not fair to Peggy and it is not fair to me or to all the people who know and love her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Life is not fair sometimes, I know that from living and breathing.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It really doesn't matter what takes a person that we love away.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The fact is that they are gone from our lives and they are not coming back.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;need to learn to deal with the emptiness and the pain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I need to learn to go on with my daily lives.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I need to learn to deal with the anger of being left behind.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;need to learn to touch the emptiness but not hold on to it too tight.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Sometimes, I&amp;nbsp;hold on to the emptiness that Peggy left to tightly. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can be like a dog with a rag in it's mouth&amp;nbsp;in a contest with another dog. Refusing to let go of the rag of my grief. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;If I let the rag go,&amp;nbsp;the dog on the other end of the rag&amp;nbsp;would win. It is difficult for me to let the other dog win and let go of my grief.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;When I&amp;nbsp;refuse to&amp;nbsp;let go of the rag&amp;nbsp;of&amp;nbsp;grief over losing Peggy...I&amp;nbsp;die too.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I die while&amp;nbsp;I live. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I think that the person we love looks down on us with tears in their eyes when they see us dying from grief.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;They could not control the fate in&amp;nbsp;their lives but we have a choice.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We have the choice to die while we are still living.&amp;nbsp;Continuing to&amp;nbsp;hold tightly to our grief&amp;nbsp;rag. Or we can learn from a life lived and let go of the grief rag and live again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can almost hear Peggy's voice shouting to me on some days.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;For goodness sake, ML.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;LET GO OF THE RAG!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-521054642329809219?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/521054642329809219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=521054642329809219' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/521054642329809219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/521054642329809219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/06/grief-rag.html' title=' THE GRIEF RAG'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5178262199119425366</id><published>2006-06-23T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PICK'S DISEASE....REMEMBERING PEGGY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy saw a neurologist last week and we found out something new.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She may have Picks Disease. It is a first cousin to Alzheimer's disease and the prognosis is the same.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Here is some information on the disease.&lt;/P&gt;What is Pick's Disease &lt;FONT size=+1&gt;&lt;P&gt;Pick's disease is a relatively rare, degenerative brain illness that causes dementia. The first description of the disease was published in 1892 by Arnold Pick. Until recently it was thought that Pick's disease could not be distinguished from Alzheimer's disease during life. Consequently, it has been little studied, and much less is known about it than about Alzheimer's disease. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Pick's disease differs from Alzheimer's disease in several ways. First, the two diseases produce different abnormalities in the cells of the brain. Pick's disease is marked by "Pick bodies", rounded, microscopic structures found within affected cells. Neurons swell, taking on a "ballooned" appearance. Neither of these changes appears in Alzheimer's disease, and the pathology of Alzheimer's disease (plaques and tangles) is not found in Pick's disease. Secondly, Pick's disease is usually sharply confined to the front parts of the brain, particularly the frontal and anterior temporal lobes. This contrasts with Alzheimer's disease, which is more widely distributed. The two diseases also produce different neurochemical changes in the brain. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;These basic differences between Alzheimer's disease and Pick's disease mean that the two tend to produce somewhat different symptoms. In contrast to Alzheimer's disease, in which early memory loss predominates, the first symptoms of Pick's disease are often personality change, and a decline in function at work and home. Personality change may take the form of apathy and indifference toward customary interests, or of disregard for social decorum and for the feelings of others. Poor social judgement, inappropriate sexual advances, or a coarse and jocular demeanor may be seen. Function declines because the patient simply does very little, or displays confusion and poor judgement. Patients may not be highly forgetful. Often times the patient performs well when directed to do something, but cannot undertake the very same thing independently. What is lost is the ability to initiate, organize, and follow through on even very simple plans and familiar activities. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As the illness advances, difficulties with language become common. Patients become unusually quiet, and when they do speak it may be slowly, in brief sentences. They may labor to make the sounds of words and their speech may sound distorted. Some become extremely apathetic -- they may sit for hours doing nothing at all unless prompted to do so by another, while others become extraordinarily restless, and may pace unceasingly. Some patients are hypersexual, and some, like a small child, may place anything they pick up in their mouths. Gluttonous eating occurs in some cases. Attention span is poor; patients seem to be distracted instantly by anything that they hear or see. Later in the disease, patients usually become mute. Restlessness gives way to profound apathy and the patient may not respond at all to the surrounding world. Eventually, they enter a terminal vegetative state. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Pick's disease usually begins after age 40 and is less common after age 60. It is a disease that invariably worsens. The average course is about 5 years, but it ranges from 2-15 years. It is rare, accounting for between 1% and 5% of dementia. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The diagnosis of Pick's disease is difficult during life, because its symptoms are so variable and because they overlap so much with Alzheimer's disease. A CT or MRI scan may show a pattern of atrophy that suggests Pick's disease, and neuropsychological testing may be helpful. In our experience, the experimental brain scanning techniques with PET and SPECT can be revelatory. However, it is very hard to be certain even with an extensive evaluation; Alzheimer's disease can produce the symptoms described above, and Pick's disease may produce symptoms typical of Alzheimer's disease. In all cases, it is critical to obtain a good evaluation in order to rule out treatable conditions that can cause these symptoms. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Unfortunately, neither the cause nor cure for Pick's disease is known. A few studies suggest that Pick's disease may have a genetic component, but most family members are unaffected. Other risk factors are unknown. The treatment of the disease is essentially the same as that of Alzheimer's disease; supervision and assistance for the patient aimed at maximizing his or her quality of life, medications to manage particular symptoms, and emotional and substantive support for the caregiver. The Alzheimer's Association and its network of support groups are an excellent source of help in facing this difficult illness.&lt;/FONT&gt; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wish things were different but today there is more reality thatyou will not be coming back to us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;PICK'S DISEASE OR ALZHEIMER'S........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;EITHER WAY, PEGGY IS GONE!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I miss you!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5178262199119425366?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5178262199119425366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5178262199119425366' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5178262199119425366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5178262199119425366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/06/pick-diseaseremembering-peggy.html' title='PICK&amp;#39;S DISEASE....REMEMBERING PEGGY!'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2762954156193265414</id><published>2006-06-14T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FAIR WEATHER FRIENDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy and I vowed to always be there for one another and we were until...Alzheimer's started making her disappear in her 40's.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I walk back through my mind to the day that we made&amp;nbsp;our forever friend&amp;nbsp;promise. Our promise was to always be there for one another.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was a hot summer day in Birmingham, Alabama and we were keeping cool playing with the garden hose in our front yard. We ran through the cold water screaming and laughing for hours.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Our&amp;nbsp;mother was sitting on the porch with her sister, who was visiting. I heard mother and Aunt Louise talk about fair weather friends as&amp;nbsp;we ran through the cold water of the garden hose.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We finished our play and sat on the steps below mother and Aunt Louise. We listened to every word that they said and smothered giggles and rolled our eyes at their conversation. We were enjoying hearing their grown up talk until they realized we were listening and told us to go and play.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Later that evening, we were walking down our street and discussing fair weather friends, what the word&amp;nbsp;meant and if we knew any one who was like that to us.&amp;nbsp; We each had a list of people that we thought might be fair weather friends.&amp;nbsp; We began to put them into categories and name names!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There were the fair weather friends who hurt our feelings on purpose.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There were the fair weather friends who were not really our friends unless we were having a party.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There were fair weather friends who made fun of us one day and liked us the next day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There were the fair weather friends that we kept hoping would like us and invite us&amp;nbsp;to their house&amp;nbsp;but they never did.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, there were the fair weather friends who just forgot to include us. They didn't mean any harm and usually apologized for the oversight.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I have days when I get angry that Peggy is not there for me any longer. Days when I feel like she has bcome one of those fair weather friends.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have days when I need her to listen to my life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Days when I need her to be there for me again.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Days when the empty space that she left is as high as a mountain and deep as the sea.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have days when I have to remember my promise to Peggy on that hot day in Alabama when we were girls.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I promised her that I would never be a fair weather friend and she promised me the same.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All of Peggys&amp;nbsp;promises were taken away from her theday the Alzheimer's disease entered her mind and made her forget.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember two little girls&amp;nbsp;who thought that they had forever as sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Forever came&amp;nbsp;to soon&amp;nbsp;and I am the only one who remembers that day so long ago.The day we made promises&amp;nbsp;and meant them with all of our young hearts.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We&amp;nbsp;just never realized that sometimes .....&amp;nbsp;promises are broken and cannot be&amp;nbsp;kept.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The&amp;nbsp;thought never entered our minds that ......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Forever would come so soon.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Miss You!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2762954156193265414?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2762954156193265414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2762954156193265414' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2762954156193265414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2762954156193265414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/06/fair-weather-friends.html' title='FAIR WEATHER FRIENDS'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3704371537765387598</id><published>2006-06-12T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HELLO</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;I was able to talk to Peggy last night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She actually said hello! It was so good to hear her voice again though the conversation didn't last long. Her attention span is short and after hello, she didn't have anything else to say.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I told her that I loved her but I don't know if she heard it or even knew what it meant.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That doesn't matter. All that mattered was that I heard her voice and I got to tell her that I loved her.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought about the many times that I have said hello to people and not expected any further conversation. I say hello to people that I meet on the street or in stores. They do not know me and I do not know them. I do not expect them to have a long conversation with me about their life or their day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is just a greeting.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy was kind enough to say a simple hello.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She doesn't know me and didn't expect anything further from me. When I told her that I loved her she put the phone down and was finished with the call.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I thought about all the people that I say hello to in a day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I expected&amp;nbsp;and wished for more with Peggy last night. I wanted more from her than a simple hello but she was talking to a stranger and to a stranger.............&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Hello is enough.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3704371537765387598?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3704371537765387598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3704371537765387598' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3704371537765387598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3704371537765387598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/06/hello.html' title='HELLO'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4178310287283129297</id><published>2006-06-05T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PARADE OF MEMORIES</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;A couple of weeks ago, I developed what the Doctor said is tinnitus. It is loud repetitive noises in both ears. It sounds like I have 100 sirens blaring in my head.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It is hard to think or do normal activities. I&amp;nbsp;can mask the noise during the day when there are many distractions but at night it is unbearable and I get little sleep.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The nights are quiet and I cannot mask the noise even with a sound machine.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So during the darkness of nighttime, I think.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Last night, I decided that it is much easier to watch Peggy disappear during the day light hours because there are distractions.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;At night, I am sitting with me and my thoughts. I decided last night at 3:30 am that I was not very good company to myself. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I&amp;nbsp;felt nervous and&amp;nbsp;was not kind in the words that I&amp;nbsp;said to myself.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was impatient and feeling sorry for me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I felt all alone and at times, scared as the noises in my ears continued.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I thought last night that it takes practice to be comfortable inside my head. To be comfortable when it is just me in the dark of the night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I couldn't shut off my mind in the night as memories&amp;nbsp;marched through my head like a parade on the 4th of July.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I noticed that every few minutes, I would get up and walk about the house....Every parade needs a drum major and I was way out in front of my memory parade.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I kept trying to turn the memories off by reading or writing but the parade continued through the rest of the night.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;At one point, near dawn, I heard my thoughts say to me...What is wrong with you ML?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I sat down so frustrated while the noise kept ringing in my ears.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, it came to me....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What a privilege it was to have a night like last night. Sure, it was uncomfortable, lonely and long but......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I still have the ability to remember and&amp;nbsp; the privilege of having a parade of memories march through my head.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am blessed because I can remember.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I have a gift that Peggy has lost. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You can not lead a parade if you have forgotten how to march.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;Peggy does not have any memories to march behind her in the day light or in the night time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;So my long night was exhausting but on the up side....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was privileged to lead a parade!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4178310287283129297?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4178310287283129297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4178310287283129297' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4178310287283129297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4178310287283129297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/06/parade-of-memories.html' title='PARADE OF MEMORIES'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-342974389085508336</id><published>2006-05-29T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEMORIAL DAY REMEMBERING</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;This is Memorial Day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A day to remember all those who are lost to us.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am remembering Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I am remembering when this journey with her began years ago.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It began with frantic calls to say she had passed out, fell and hit her head.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It began with forgetting how to count money and calling to tell me how embarrassed she was.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It began with getting lost while driving her car and calling so that I could give her directions.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It began with losing jewelry and other treasured items and calling to&amp;nbsp;ask about places to look for them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It continued with calls to ask where the milk was kept when she was ready to eat cereal in the morning.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There are so many calls&amp;nbsp;from her that I recall as she was sliding deeper into Alzheimer's disease.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, there are no calls from Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Now, she does not have the ability to ask questions.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Those calls were disturbing to me back then but.......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I remember and wish that my phone would ring today and Peggy would have a question for me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A question&amp;nbsp;that I could answer on this day of remembering.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;But there are no calls from Peggy today or ever again and so....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I think of her and remember.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-342974389085508336?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/342974389085508336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=342974389085508336' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/342974389085508336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/342974389085508336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/05/memorial-day-remembering.html' title='MEMORIAL DAY REMEMBERING'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-702063307404787967</id><published>2006-05-23T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEMORIAL WEEK</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Our family&amp;nbsp;went to a family reunion this weekend. It was for my husbands side of the family. Our children and grand children also made the trip.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was good to see those we haven't seen for years and introduce them to our grown up children and grand children. After the lunch, we all went to the old grave yard where members of the family were buried.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;We walked among the old grave stones and the older family members shared stories of those who were buried there.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Some of the grave stones were so old and worn that you could not read the inscriptions. No one remembered who they were or when they had lived.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Everyone could only share stories of those they&amp;nbsp;remembered during their life time. The ones buried there who had touched their lives while they lived.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I walked among the grave stones and tried to read the names carved&amp;nbsp;on the stones.&amp;nbsp;One stone only said baby girl. I wondered why she was never given a name. Even if she was born dead or only lived a brief time, she deserved a name. I named the baby&amp;nbsp;girl, Grace. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Who were the people&amp;nbsp;whose stones had weathered and time had erased their names?&amp;nbsp;What had &amp;nbsp;their lives meant to those who knew them? Had they been happy and had their lives touched someone for the better?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There were so many grave stones with names that no one in the family remembered.The memories of who they were and when they lived were buried with them.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It was as if...they were born, they lived their lives, they died&amp;nbsp;and no one remembered the good or bad of who they were.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My mission in writing about Peggy is to educate about Alzheimer's disease and how it feels to watch someone you love disappear. To make sure that as many people as possible will get to know Peggy through my words.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My mission is that&amp;nbsp;Peggy will be remembered for who she was and how she touched my life. I do not want her to be forgotten like so many of the people in the family grave yard.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy will never be just a name on a grave stone because when you can teach people by living your life........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You will never be forgotten.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As long as I can remember Peggy....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She&amp;nbsp;will continue to teach and I will&amp;nbsp;continue to write&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp; lessons she is teaching me as I Watch her...Disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I will remember you always.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-702063307404787967?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/702063307404787967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=702063307404787967' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/702063307404787967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/702063307404787967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/05/memorial-week.html' title='MEMORIAL WEEK'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-3645404565602726858</id><published>2006-05-18T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MISSING PEGGY TODAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;You would think that after all these years, I would&amp;nbsp; be accustomed to Peggy being absent from my daily life.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;You would think that.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I think that I should think that.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;BUT......&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Someone forgot to tell my heart!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Lisa Lorden wrote:&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My sister is like no one else.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She's my most treasured friend, filling up the empty spaces, Healing the broken places.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;She is my rock, my inspiration, though impossible to define.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;In a word, she is...My Sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy and&amp;nbsp;I will continue to miss you every day of my life!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-3645404565602726858?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/3645404565602726858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=3645404565602726858' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3645404565602726858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/3645404565602726858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/05/missing-peggy-today.html' title='MISSING PEGGY TODAY'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-2195830423378337439</id><published>2006-05-14T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>      HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY    </title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;&lt;FONT color=#ff0000&gt;HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!&lt;/FONT&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;FONT color=#ff0000&gt;To all of the Mothers of human children and to all the Mothers of Animal children.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;IMG src="http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a126/Madcobug/Miscellaneous/redrosebouguet.jpg"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; FROM PEGGY AND MARY LOUISE&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-2195830423378337439?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/2195830423378337439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=2195830423378337439' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2195830423378337439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/2195830423378337439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-mother-day.html' title='      HAPPY MOTHER&amp;#39;S DAY    '/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a126/Madcobug/Miscellaneous/th_redrosebouguet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-5160297495302563087</id><published>2006-05-13T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I CANNOT STOP THE TRAIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Peggy cannot talk to me on the phone any longer. I am losing the privilege of hearing her voice.&amp;nbsp; With that lost priviledge, I can no longer pretend on some level in my brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;My layers of grief&amp;nbsp;protection are being pealed away, one layer at a time.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Each time a layer of protection&amp;nbsp;is removed, I have to re-adjust my thinking, my feelings and the grief of watching her disappear.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The disease gets more real to me every day as it cuts off any avenue that I had been using to reach my sister.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As Peggy&amp;nbsp;slides&amp;nbsp;farther and farther away and the realness of watching her disappear comes closer and closer at an alarming speed.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Alzheimer's disease&amp;nbsp;is like watching a train fly down the tracks at increasing speeds, out of control and the horror that I feel is that........&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There is no way&amp;nbsp;that I can&amp;nbsp;help or stop the Alzheimer's train from taking Peggy with it as it flies down the tracks.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All I can do is stand by the tracks and watch the speeding train pass. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As the Alzheimer's train roars past me.....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;I see Peggy in the window of the speeding train and I can only watch .....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;As she disappears down the tracks.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;And I grieve that I cannot stop the train that is taking you away!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-5160297495302563087?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/5160297495302563087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=5160297495302563087' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5160297495302563087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/5160297495302563087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-cannot-stop-train.html' title='I CANNOT STOP THE TRAIN'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-4468034288522336554</id><published>2006-05-02T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NO APOLOGIES...NO REGRET</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Have you ever forgotten a special event, a persons birthday or an anniversary of someone close to you?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;The event or special day passes and it never registers until days or weeks later.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All at once, you realize that you have forgotten to recognize someone close to you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Do you remember what that felt like when you remembered?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Feelings of regret, shame and the apologies that always follow the forgotten date. &lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Then, dealing with ones own self abuse over the forgotten date.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;How could I have forgotten such a special date? What is wrong with me? How can I make it up to the person who was hurt but my forgetting?&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;When a person has Alzheimer's disease...There is no regret, no shame, no apologies for forgotten important dates to family and friends.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There is only an erased mind who feels the moment.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;One cannot feel regret about special days&amp;nbsp;when they&amp;nbsp;have vanished.&amp;nbsp;When they&amp;nbsp;no longer live in the memories that are stored in the brain.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I was the one who felt sad&amp;nbsp;when Peggy forgot my birthday, not Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There is something good about an erased memory....&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There are no regrets in forgetting.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Silences&amp;nbsp;are real conversations between sisters.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Not needing to talk but already knowing what the heart&amp;nbsp;of the other wishes it could say.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I Love You Today, Peggy!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-4468034288522336554?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/4468034288522336554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=4468034288522336554' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4468034288522336554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/4468034288522336554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/05/no-apologiesno-regret.html' title='NO APOLOGIES...NO REGRET'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8464653406123595609.post-1955827347144130697</id><published>2006-04-30T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:02:14.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME</title><content type='html'>&lt;P&gt;Today is my birthday.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;All of my sister's and brother will call sometimes during the day to say or sing happy birthday to me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I always enjoy their calls and I laugh at the different versions of the birthday song that they sing to me.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;What has been noticeably missing for the past years is Peggy's voice.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;That lilting voice singing or saying Happy Birthday, Mary Louise.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Birthdays were always special days while we were growing up. It was our own special day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Even after we were grown, a happy birthday always came&amp;nbsp; across the telephone lines, in cards and with gifts.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Today is my birthday and...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy voice still whispers in my memories.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I can still recall her saying...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Happy Birthday Mary Louise. If you didn't get your card and present today, you will get it tomorrow.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;It isn't much. Just something that reminded me of you.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Peggy.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you today, Peggy and I miss you on the day that I took my first breath.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I wander back to the day three years later, when I heard you cry&amp;nbsp; on your birth-day.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Time and distance has changed our lives but we will always be forever friends.&amp;nbsp; I will always miss you a little more on my birthday and on yours.&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;A birthday is a day to reflect and in my reflections...&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;There you are saying happy birthday to me!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;I love you!&lt;/P&gt;&lt;P&gt;Mary Louise&lt;/P&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8464653406123595609-1955827347144130697?l=watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/feeds/1955827347144130697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8464653406123595609&amp;postID=1955827347144130697' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1955827347144130697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8464653406123595609/posts/default/1955827347144130697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://watchingmysisterdisappear.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME'/><author><name>Mary Louise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02546934635244187426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry></feed>
