I walk into a room, and I forget why I am there.
I see someone I know and can't remember her name.
I am in the middle of teaching, and I grasp for a word floating around in my mind, just out of my cognizant reach.
I know this is a regular part of aging, but when dementia grows two generations deep, I feel fear. A fear that I will be next.
My writing life has become even more important to me because I want to remember. I want to keep my thoughts and my stories safe.
We've been making difficult decisions with my mom since last May. Parenting a parent is not easy, especially when we have to take things away from her. As she continues to decline, her memory loss makes it easier at times. Simply because she doesn't remember.
This week for our #TeachWritetober writing challenge, our prompt was to write a haiku about something that scares us. I am living that fear each time I walk into my mother's house, afraid that she will not remember who I am. I know that day is coming.
her present becomes my fear
of lost memories
