The Long Autumn


It is so sad to watch your Mom slowly but surely become less and less able to process words and sentences beyond a very limited range of thought and deduction. It is the most frustrating frustration to repeat and repeat an answer to question that she simple cannot understand no matter how much she says she does becuase in her world your answer does not follow, it does not compute ,it is non sequitor and totally unrelated to her question. Yes does not mean yes anymore, at least not always nor does no mean no. Fears of doom and abandonment however unreal are real, generally so, and when you think you have given reassurance it turns out it was only for a fleeting moment and the circle begins anew. To add insult to injury distance neither adds nor subtracts from that circular confusion and the delusions that it brings. In your own most silent moments you ask yourself “does this awaits me if I live” and then you answer maybe and wonder if the final exit is not preferable. Then you feel guilty for even asking this becuase “this” is not about you but yet it is and it is about all of us, eventually. So you rejoice in each day however compromised the joy may be at the moment for the stillness and the silence that one day will come, will be all you have for that season of twilight between memory and presence.

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