Announcements, Challenges, and a Little Poetry


I am an idiot. Yes, I even surpass the idiocy of The Idiot by not recognizing the power of web addresses. (Side note, I linked you to a non-idiotic post for Mark, because we all need to send some positive energy his way tomorrow).

See for a long time I though my blog address was lame. It was lame. I mean,, what is that? So I finally figured out how to change it, and become more consistent, not realizing, of course, that every post I ever posted would no longer link correctly to my blog. My entire web presence destroyed in one minute as a changed my address to

Why has nobody read me this morning, I asked myself this morning? The answer is simple, I no longer exist!! So nobody is even going to read this, unless I make an extra effort to get back into the annals of my followers.

Aaaaauuuuuggggh! total idiocy.

Insert temper tantrum here.

OK, so much for that. Hopefully it won’t take too long for people to find me again.

100 Word Challenge Part Two

Nathan read my 100 word challenge from  yesterday and commented that he thought I would write something completely different, related more to the post about my Dad from a few days ago and Alzheimer’s. Aha! I said, because I am currently in a manic mode of creation and my mind immediately leaps on ideas. So, welcome to my second entry for this weeks 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups

The Battle Against Forgetting

 Memories found in repeated phrases
lest we forget.

My Dad and I both think with our tongues out.

Pink tongue peeking through parted lips
a habit passed from father to daughter
lest we forget.

Watching in wonder as the world fades for him
living in fear of following his footsteps
into a land of lost memories
lest we forget.

Yet a journey through memory, while tinged with sadness
can also be a journey of joy
of silly poems, and sillier smiles,
of a grandfather watching his new baby girl
sometimes a journey down memory lane
is worth its weight in smiles
lest we forget.

Long Distance Loss

Histopathogic image of senile plaques seen in ...

Image via Wikipedia

Newspaper headlines capture my eye
“Alzheimer’s deaths soar, research funding lags”
“Camp gives teens respite from Alzheimer’s”
I cry.
I ache.
I wish.

Links to my family
severed by time
by distance
by disease.
Part of me yearns for proximity
to help
to connect
to understand.
But closeness will not stop
a disease that shows not mercy.
Money will not stop
a disease of creeping time.
Love will not stop
the slow decay of inevitability.
Guilt will not heal
the broken connections
of a family
long before the invasive disintegration
of memory,
of hope,
of dreams,
of soul.

Memory Receding

A moment of panic in the dark. Where am I? Who am I? What day is it? Why am I? This was just a dream or a moment of waking from a dream. A moment of unknowing that I cannot forget.

Is this the daily existence for a man who lived in his brain, my father?

Just a couple of years ago he was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, after his symptoms took a turn for the worst. He’d been showing them for years, but nobody paid attention, blaming his mood shifts and other difficulties on hearing or alcohol. But it wasn’t that.

It was the loss of his being in his mind.

He still knows us, but has moments of not-knowing, or moments of pure memory. He is still my dad, but then again he is not. I am not with him often, but when I am there he is not with me. Not really.

I feel like I should mourn, but I do not know how. He has always been the person I went to when I had questions that involved the mind, but I cannot say we were ever truly close. I don’t know that anyone in my family was ever truly close.

My memories have faded as well.

It is painful to know that this man who used to  be so vibrant and who used to charm all of my friends, is somehow fading into himself. I never even really talk to him anymore, as the phone is my only contact with my family and he never talks. I think my family somewhat resents my physical distance which makes it even harder to call. My physical distance is becoming metaphysical.

In all honesty I am afraid. I am afraid of watching someone dwindle and disappear right before my eyes.  But  at isn’t the only thing I fear. I am afraid of watching my future. Am I destined to disappear in a similar way, my mind receding back into memory until there is nothing left but emptiness? I can’t live life like that.

I miss my dad.

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