‘Mum!’
Dot looked around and smiled at her son. His chubby face grinned
back, loose hair flopped over one eye making him look like a one eyed
pirate.
‘Mum! Listen to me!’
‘I am listening sweetheart.’ Dot laughed. ‘I always listen to you.’
‘Samuel pulled away as most 13 year old boys do from a Mothers hug.
He looked so adorable in his school shorts and blazer.
‘I wonder where your father is’ Dot sighed. ‘He is always late these
days.’
She walked into the kitchen. ‘Would you like something to eat now?’
Samuel followed her in and gently led her back into the lounge.
‘Mum, Dad is not coming home now’
Dot started, her heart in her throat as she stared at Samuel.
Then she remembered and sank down onto the nearest chair
Gordon had died recently. His heart had given out they said. She found
it hard when she forgot he was not there.
Crying herself to sleep had become a habit.
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Came a mans voice from the kitchen.
She looked up to see a middle aged man walk into the room, a
questioning look on his face.
‘Who are you?’ She asked looking around for Samuel.
The man smiled sadly, lines wrinkling up around tired eyes as he did
so.
‘Its me Mum. Samuel. Your son’
Dot stared at him fighting through the sudden pain of recollection.
Samuel looked at his mum and hated the dementia that had a hold of
her.
Shopping Cart
7 Comments
Bill
While I was a good bit older than Sam, the description does fit five years of my life a while back. Dementia/Alzheimer’s is a terrible condition. The only saving grace (if there is one) is that the person with the affliction does not realize they have it.
Abbie
I’ve actually only known one person with it thankfully. Not a family member. Very lucky I think.
Melissa Bittinger
Read this one several times and was still compelled to read it again…and feel the emotions all over again and cry for them.
Abbie
Thank you! I am glad it works
Maggie Terlecki
I have not gone through this, but know someone that has. I also remember I think you talking about a neighbour of yours (some woman) having it. So complicated, and sad. I’m sure it is very difficult to see someone you respected and thought brilliant become so lost. It also demands that the person taking care of you be able to have that special compassion and understanding. I’m sad to say that I would not be good. I remember when my son was having his first communion, we had to go to practice how it would work and there was a woman there that asked me when we had to be there. I told her the next day at 2:00pm. A few minutes, later, she asked me the same thing. I told her again. But then she kept on asking me over and over and over and I’m sad to say, I was annoyed. It feels terrible to say, as I always thought of my self as being quite patient, but realized in this case, I had no patience at all. I would not be able to work with people with this disease, as they deserve better. Some should no longer be at home, and should be in care, as they too get frustrated and can scream and shout as they can’t figure out what’s going on. All and all a sad situation. Good story telling, Abbie. Maggie
Abbie
I think admitting your annoyance is a good thing. Too many people try to pretend they are okay with it, but I don’t believe them. I think honest people actually are the ones who cope better than they think they will
Dot and Sam – Our Arts Magazine
[…] Source link […]