I've been rifling through my old writing lately, trying to get my creative wheels moving and gear up for the manuscript(s) I need to pump out this summer, and I came across something I wrote my junior year of high school. Let me preface it by saying the assignment was a tragedy, but we weren't allowed to explicitly say what it was. I chose my grandmother's recent Alzheimer's diagnosis. Here's a little (depressing) excerpt ... we'll get to the upbeat part in a bit:
"I am my grandmother's pride and joy, her baby grand. I cry as I realize that soon she won't even remember my name. The name she gushed to anyone and everyone who would listen. I weep as it soaks in--soon she will not recognize my face. The same cheeks she squeezed and the forehead she kissed good night. I will cling to the memories as she forgets. She will forget every moment until I am nothing. She will forget every moment until she is nothing. She will lose me, and I will lose her, twice over."
Like I said, I wrote that my junior year of high school. I'm now wrapping up my junior year of college... and she still remembers me. I look different everyday -- I get triple IDed every time I go out because I don't resemble my license or my student ID, and half the time my own friends don't even recognize me when they pass me on campus -- but I can stroll into her place unannounced after being gone for months, and she knows me. She may not remember quite how much she loved me, but she still loves me. And she may ask me how school is 15 times in one sitting, but at least she remembers where I am.
I'm not naive. I know the bad times are still going to come eventually. But they're not here yet, and I am so lucky to have had these four unexpectedly good years -- and who knows how many more. I'm so grateful for that.
Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there... and especially to my amazing mother and grandmother, without whom I would not have the honor to walk this earth.
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