Do You Remember When...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
Everything this says is true. Except the ending, it may come true, it may not, who knows?

My granddad has Alzheimer's Disease, and my grandma recently passed away. He has completely forgotten her, and me. It is extremly painful to watch when, in a rare moment, he will remember her. I hold this subject extremly close to my heart. If anyone is experiencing the same thing, you are not alone, and I am always here to talk to.

There are currently 700,000 people with dementia in the UK.
There are currently 15,000 younger people with dementia in the UK.There will be over a million people with dementia by 2025.

Submitted: February 07, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 07, 2009



I followed my mum down the hallway. The plastic bag I held was slipping as my hand became sweaty. I gazed nervously at the photo covered walls. The smell was sickly, and making me nauseous. An old woman walked briskly towards us. I shrank back against the wall. She was muttering to herself and stopped suddenly as my mum started talking cheerfully to her.
I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to see him like this.
I closed my eyes. Briefly remembering the way he was before. Joking, happy, smiling. Tears were welling up in my eyes, but I blinked them back. Maybe she wasn’t with him. Maybe she was with her own relatives. I continued after my mum. Switching the bag into my other hand.
We walked into the room. She was there. Next to him. Holding his hand. I nearly screamed at her. I wanted to slap her. Tell her to stay away. But I couldn’t. They didn’t understand what it was doing to me. They didn’t understand anything. Ignoring her, just as she ignored me, I walked to a chair and sat in it. I quietly handed the bag to my mum and looked back out the window. Wishing it was just me and him. Talking like we used to. Walking with the cows and the horses. The way his face crinkled when he laughed. I breathed out slowly, controlling the urge to run from the room. I risked a glance at him. That was a mistake. He was smiling at something my mum was saying, nodding his head. But his eyes were blank. His blue eyes, which were once filled with laughter and happiness. The tears immediately welled up again. I felt one slide down my cheek. My mum didn’t notice. No one ever noticed me, I was left out. Forgotten.
Suddenly I felt a cool hand cover mine. I started and looked up. He was looking at me. Smiling reassuringly, but she was peering over his shoulder. Glaring at me. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I jumped out of the seat and raced down the hallway. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My heart pounded in my chest as I skidded round corners, desperately trying to find a way out. A nurse asked me if I was okay, her too big smile plastered across her face. I ignored her and practically fell down the stairs. Eventually I found the door and threw it open. I hared outside; falling down on the front grass. I sucked in a big lungful of air. Trying desperately to get that image out of my head.
I stared out the window as the countryside flashed by.

“I still don’t see why you had to run out like that.” My mum droned on. I tuned out. She didn’t understand. She never will.

That night I went into my bathroom and locked the door. I stared at myself in the mirror. Everything was falling apart. I thought of him. I wondered what he was doing right now. Wondered if she was with him. He wasn’t my granddad. He was just some man with my granddad’s face. I slowly dropped the scissors on the floor. I hadn’t even realised I had done it. Blood ran down my wrists. I picked up a photo of him and a woman and looked at it. I smiled as the darkness clouded my vision. I was going to be with them again.

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