I have this fear.
Okay, I have a LOT of fears, but they are usually little fears. I'm not fond of insects. I have a fear of what's IN the dark. And, having been homeless once upon a time, I have a fear of being that again.
I have larger fears; the biggest one being something happening to any of my loved ones.
But the biggest fear? That would be easy to explain, and probably even easier to understand.
I have a fear of winding up like my Mother.
As most of you know, for the last few years, my Mother has been in an assisted care facility, in the throes of the disease named after Alzheimer. She no longer speaks, and rarely makes any discernible noise whatsoever, rarely opens her eyes, and is about two thirds the size of what she once was; and seeing as she was 4'11" to begin with.....dinky.
Now, most of the people who know me, and some of the people who love me, would probably say just about now that the whole "not speaking" thing would serve me well, and they would encourage me to follow the regimen, illness or no. And I could use a nap.
But to lose that ability to creatively think would be death itself. Death without a chance of Heaven.
I've often been chastised for my self-image; self-described as "too much brain and too little looks." And I stand by my assessment, although I thank you for your comments. So, the idea of losing my mind is the largest fear that I have.
I mean, REALLY losing my mind. Not the fake losing my mind I've been doing since '97.
I have to tell you.....every time I forget just a little thing; every time I go to the store and forget an element of the list; every time I lose just a little piece of the museum that is my memory......I break out in a cold sweat and wonder.....
So. You're all under standing orders. If there ever comes a time when I require your services, I will give you all a code phrase, and then you will all draw straws and the short straw will move me to Oregon.
The code phrase will be...."Where's the rest of me?"
And I'll thank you in advance, because I may not be able to do it when you get here.
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2 comments:
I will volunteer for the short straw...providing I'm not batshitcrazy of my own when and if the time comes. I'll take you to Oregon.
I understand your fear. I do. It's valid and scary an ugly and at times comical...
I think the difficult part is not letting this fear manifest into something paralizing that doesn't allow you to love and live right now. this moment. this second.
because you have a lot to live and a lot to love...
I've spoken a lot about my lack of memory. The Reagan disease I call it. Its crude.
After you told me about your Mother...I stopped referring to it as such.
Fear can eat you alive. From the inside out. It has no mercy and is as unforgiving as an out of control jack knifed semi truck barrelling down the highway.
But I also believe as I mentioned to Kizz this morning that fear is a gift.
A very useful one not to be ignored.
I tend to dwell too.
Some days I tell myself all day long just to be grateful for the time.
There's a quote some where: The darkness is proof of the sunshine.
Even if you have to write it down and post it to remember....please remember that you are sunshine. To me.
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