Passing Thoughts
As
I awakened this morning, I was hit with the feeling of concern, “What do I
write about today and what do I share with my friends?” Sometimes thoughts or
recollections swiftly rise and flow into meaningful and entertaining articles.
I’ve been writing and sharing since 2013. I began posting every day, but that
became too heavy a burden. I began to share on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
It gave my brain a chance to remember something or an event to happen in my
rather routine life. Always at the back of my mind was the thought of
Alzheimer’s disease. My mother Sybil Miner Beck, her five sisters, and several
cousins have fallen prey to this insidious malady. That is why I write. I want
my family to be able to pass on those memories, even if I am unable.
I
watched my grandfather Raymond Miner prrogress as the gray a fog of dementia slowly
assaulted him. He struggled all his life to provide for his wife Rebecca Rugg
Miner and his eight children; laboring on his farm during the day and working
in a coal mine at night. Even as dementia claimed his mind, his desire to care
for his animals would often appear. Grandma would have to keep a close watch on
his wanderings.
I
think the history of their loss of remembrances cause me to struggle with my
efforts to dredge as much as I can from my memories before the windows of my own
brain’s vault closes to say, “Insufficient funds.” There are times when so many
things roll unimpeded through my brain as I climb out of bed and words flow
like an Artesian well bubbling out in a seeming unending flow. But sometimes it’s
too early and I roll over for a bit more sleep. Oft times it caps the well and
the flow of thoughts disappears. Then I worry, what have I missed sharing?
Because
of a brain injury in 2015, I now have phantom smells. Thoughts of smells push
forward this morning. Its not that the smells from my past are so important but
they still exist as part of my memories full package. They wait to be dragged
to the surface. Sometimes I wander through my house sniffing here searching for
the source. Then I must decide. Is it a real odor or only a phantom smell?
Since the fall, smells come and go. It’s strange. I want to keep the memories
of past intact with their aromas attached, but I don’t want them corrupted with
these false smells. SIGH
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