here is an excerpt from a short story i have begun. meant to be 'funny'in the beginning it has evolved and i only share a portion as it gets pretty sad. here goes:

UNFINISHED LIFE,,,
a short story about the blessings of dementia

by lindibear

chapter 1: "prologue "

Well i said this is a short story didn't i? So why have a prologue? Don't ask me - maybe to let you know what you are getting into.

While classified as Non-fiction, this is a bit too true to believe.
It is a HORROR story and a work of JOY and great HUMOR. There is something for everyone here ... almost - but then, as it is entirely unfinished, we will have to wait, won't we?

Oh, and, do you mind if i just write to you as though i know you? And may i leave off capitalization and grammatical worries for someone else to attend? It would help a lot as this is not a work of huge import or renown. It is not a story of profound insight or deep thought.
This is simply an account of a mother's quest for the grail - the cuplet of peace we all seek for ourselves - as written by a daughter who is seeing, this close to the end of her mom's physical oddysey, what can happen when that cup literally runs over!

chapter 2:" in this moment "

she sits on the bed, in the nursing home, where she is surrounded by people in all stages of some grand and tedious, insignificant and amazing task.
they are other residents, visitors, or care-givers, all coming to terms with whatever role they have been given, or have chosen, to perform in the last act of the play.

[some seem sure of what the script calls for, others are a bit baffled. and some just plain don't wanna do it.
those who have figured it out have, in layman's - or rather, HUMAN - terms "lost their freakin' minds". ]

so she sits there amidst the chaos, my mom, and she giggles. like a little girl, swinging her feet, clapping her hands, she giggles from a place somewhere deep inside that tells her is it ok. OK!
it's ok to let it out/ to be "age-inappropriate".
what she is laughing at, who really knows? her room mate has just dropped a bowl of food with a loud clatter and the attendants don't seem to notice and it smells really bad in here.

but her giggles are like a benevolent virus and my brother and i catch it (even though we both covered our mouths and tried really hard not to inhale).
so we all spend several minutes in gales of laughing tears.
it is new to experience REAL fun with our mom. we relish this moment.

she started this way of being a couple of years ago; and no, it is NOT a journey...nor is it a
pathway to heaven ...nor has it been a bowl of cherries - it IS a way of being.
in her own words "i don't know, i don't know; i just know i am here NOW".

for that i am ever so grateful.
that in this altered state that holds my mom like a web holding spider's prey, suspended, we are laughing.
that, just for now, we can hold hands and swing our feet together, being silly and not giving a bleep what others think.
this is, of course, harder for my siblings and me as we still have that inhibitor that passes for a brain, or good manners, or 'politically correct behavior'.
but mom has no need for that now. she has freed herself of the nagging monkey-mind and is now "free to move about" the universe as she pleases.

Chapter 3 "fear"

Having been a student of yoga, spirit, “nowness”, i can ‘wax philosophical’ for eons on the subject.. i can see that i no longer possess the past – not that anyone possesses time – nor can i, with any certainty depend upon the future.
I can tell YOU how it should be…how one should focus on this moment alone.

Thinking what i 'should' have done carries with it guilt that is only part of that ego-fear. I fear i have not been the best child, worker, wife, mother,…. I fear i won’t live up to expectations (mine or others’).

I can tell now so easily when mom goes into fear and when she has left it and re-centered on now. Of course that nowness sometimes has fear in it too and, with dementia, being ‘in the fear’ is traumatic – we regular folks use the knowing that ‘this too shall pass’ sometimes i think, as a way to make it through the fear…to avoid feeling it.

But i think it is necessary to actually be there IN it. No shooing it away or planning something to take it’s place or going back to a non-fearful time. My mom is being allowed the painful luxury of sitting right there in the fear and having it wash over her, and dissipate.

My sister and i sat with her, just listening and trying to respond even though the conversation seems to have no sense to it. She suddenly “SHHHHH”’d us, saying i hear your dadddy’s voice.
Sis said ‘my dad?’ and mom said yes. So we all 3 listened and mom began to cry. then sis asked who is my daddy?
Mom’s tears immediately dried and her expression changed with her reply: “I don’t know.”
She can be fully in that fearful moment and feeling it completely absorb her and in the very next instant be past it. What a gift.

My moods and emotions take much longer to heal…because i am human and not yet free of ego.
Fear gets its claws into me and i am challenged in a big way to avoid jumping away too quickly.
When bear paws you, be verrrrry still. Pulling only damages the skin and makes bear cling tighter. So it is with fear. Mom has learned, no, been graced with the ability to just sit there, still. She experiences that fear, pain, joy, excitement, blahness, and then there is a new moment to be in and it is different from that other that no longer exists.

You know what? I just realized how non-funny this chapter is. Told you i don’t know what to expect, so neither should you, dear reader.

We were at the nursing home the other day and after i had kissed mom hello and she had called me Linda (my name), i went to the rest room. While in there, my sis says, mom pulled her aside saying, “I am so glad you’re here – just now some idiot told she was Linda!”
tbc

Thank you for sharing this..The blessings of dementia..Love Rosie

yes, thank you for sharing that. Just when one thinks we've made a connection... I wonder what my Mom really thinks, who knows for sure.

Thanks, very good writing can't wait to read more..maybe you should write a book.