On this day was the lost of my Uncle’s memory two years ago, 55 year of jokes, laugher and fun vanished. I recall the day like it was yesterday, particle cloudy and the sun breathing thought the clouds to brighten the world. Every Saturday recapturing the memories of the humorless tennis matches we played, he introduced the brilliant sport to I at the age of six. Absorbing an abundant amount of knowledge from him, on the rules, violations and current players, was a constant routine that was implanted in my brain. Over the years I grew stronger and he became weaker, by the age 14 his impulses were decaying and his memory thinned and slowly fainted. As you age your memory decreases, but this was different he started to forget common subjects such as what school I attended and his family members.
The day after I spoken to my grandmother about, when I was playing tennis last Saturday. I said, “He was forgetting common ideas that he usually never forget, this meant be serious.” She replied and said “Oh child, with age comes several conditions, don’t worry about it” Confused, angered and disturbed by the assumptions my grandmother had, thinking that I didn’t know what I was talking about, but I knew she had to see it for herself. So, she did that summer evening on the porch when my uncle arrived My grandmother asked, “Why didn’t you call before you arrived, I would have asked you to pick up some things from the store” He replied “I forgot your number, and almost the address” She looks in my direction with a confused expression, wounding how he can not recall her number in a timely fashion. After that evening she scheduled a doctor appointment immediately that morning, My uncle said “I will have dementia whit in a week or two the doctor said” “What’s that?” he handled the paper, I readied it to my grandmother “Dementia is not a specific disorder or disease, associated with a progressive loss of memory and other intellectual functions that is serious enough to interference with performing the tasks of daily life.” Only having a week left to enjoy daily activities with my uncle before his memory is completely lost, I was heart broken.
That Sunday arrived quicker then I thought, he was leaving for the nursing home that morning, all I remember is my grandmother soaked in tears standing in the front doorway. All I could say “It’s going to be fine,” even if I know it was not. Reminding her of the moments, and memorizes they shared did not benefit, it damaged her more. Days past, I came to visit her that weekend to see how she was maintaining. Continently knocking on the white rusty door waiting for a reply, slowly becoming inpatient I reached for the key in the mailbox and embarked the door. I spoke quietly “Grandmamma, are you home, it Krystal” The lights were turn off, the curtains were closed, the furniture was rearranged, the bookshelf was knocked over, the soil from the plants were scattered on the dusky floor, the wood in the fireplace was denigrated and cracked dishes everywhere. I wonder aimlessly