My mother is in the beginning stages of alzheimers. I think she is way past stage one and her marbles are quickly slipping through the hour glass of sanity, to who am I? Where am I? Who are you?
I want my mother back. The one that knew how to cook, how to take showers and be clean, the one that created, and kept a spotless house.
The stress of helping her is a challenge. Taking her places wipes out my spark. After I leave her, it takes along time to relight my wick. I need sleep and that is what I am off to do. Two kittens now share my room. There is nothing more luscious than soft purring balls of love to calm a shook up soul. (anyone with fingernail on the chalkboard nerves needs a kitten )
Sadly, Mom realizes she is loony...to a degree. She hates being the way she is and often says It is hell to get old.
I have friends her age and they are of sharp mind and functioning normally. Why? What causes this horrible diease to creep into peoples minds and destroy them?
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