|"Faded" for Illustration Friday|
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Please sign the petition.
I urge you to join me and visit the Alzheimer's Association today!
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Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Thursday, May 3, 2012
This is hard to explain, but seeing him gave me the feeling as if I was in Europe, or Africa traveling for a long time and I just ran into someone from my home town. Someone with whom I can relate to in this foreign landscape. Someone who speaks the same language, with the same accent, someone who knows why things are different here, and how you can even taste it in the water. He know's this because he is from the same place I grew up, the place where we had Moms.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Then I'd see her the next day, up and chewing her meat, smiling, like everything was totally normal. Good news or bad news?
But, every time I walk in the door. "Hi Mom" I shout out and she says "Oh, hi Lois"(funny meeting you here) or "Hi Lois" (I'm just having this stranger spoon feed me my dinner, I'll be right with you.) I can't believe it. How does she recognize me? She seems to have no idea what is going on, where she is, that she is even in a wheel chair. How does she know it's me? To talk to her, you have to stand right in front of her, prop her up because she's stiff as a crooked board then try and make eye contact, and then it is still not very clear if she is even looking at you. But she seems to knows it's me. Then I think, if she does know it's me, how much does she know or understand or FEEL. This seems like very bad news.
But how does she know it's me? How does she recognize me, when she can't seem to see 12 inches in front of her face? I finally figured it out. It's my voice. When I shout out "Hi Mom" she recognizes my voice, and goes to that place, that comfortable place where I exist. I don't know where, but somewhere in there. I exist. This is good news, I think.