Remember Me

I slowly walked through the doorway leading into my Martha’s room. The afternoon sunlight was peeking through the yellowed blinds and causing hazy shadows to dance across the cold tile floor. My nose tingled from the sharp smell of disinfectant used to sterilize the room. My eyes drifted to the bed where she lay covered to her chest in crisp white sheets and her favorite pink afghan draped across her feet. I remember the long hours she spent crocheting that afghan and how proud of herself she was when she finished it. It brought a sweet smile to my face and gave me a small measure of comfort. I walked up to her bedside and carefully took her small pale hand in my callous roughened one. She slowly turned her head and looked at me with a confused expression on her face. Her usually sparkling green eyes had dulled, making her face seem even more pale and shrunken, like a fading rose. Sadness washed over me like cold unwelcome rain. It clogged my throat and I had to take a few deep breaths to gather myself enough to speak.

‘’Hello my love.’’ I said to her very gently. “How are you doing today?”

“I am doing okay.” she replies in a soft confused voice.

“Do you remember me?” I asked her and mentally kicked myself for asking such a question under the current circumstances.

“No.” she stuttered out.

“That's okay my dear as I have a story to help you remember me.” I replied to her warmly.

Everyday I tell her the same story and when I finish she remembers me even if it only lasts for a few moments. I am sure some people think I need to give this up. That maybe this isn’t good for me mentally and I should just let her go. Perhaps they are right in this assumption but perhaps not. No one can really understand Alzheimer's except for the people enduring it. I sit and agonizingly watch as my love’s memories vanish like sand through one's fingers, turning her into a terrified stranger. My heart breaks daily as she slowly disappears while she is still sitting in front of me. I know that there will be a time when my story does not strike some cord of memory within her and she will look at me blankly when I finish but I refuse to stop until that day comes. I take a deep breath and pull the rocker that is sitting in the corner of the room, up to her bedside railing and begin the story.

“It was a beautiful Sunday morning, oh about 30 years ago, I would say or there about. We had just finished a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. You were standing by the kitchen window looking out across the yard. Sunlight was casting a beautiful halo of light around you and you turned and smiled at me. That sweet enduring smile that lit your whole face up and put a twinkle in your eye. I felt like I couldn’t love you more than what I loved you in that very moment. It was that overwhelming kind of love that you feel all the way down to your toes. You tucked a strand of your black hair behind your ear and giggled.

“What my dear?” I playfully asked.

“I was thinking we could go for a picnic by the lake today.” you replied to me.

“Well of course we can. Anything my queen wants, she gets.” I somewhat jokingly said.

Lets be honest she just about got anything she wanted if it was in my power to get it for her.

You danced off to get ready as I quickly grabbed the basket we had in the cabinet down to fill it with some sandwiches and snacks. It did not take either of us long to prepare everything and pretty soon we were on our way to the nearby lake. We had the windows down in my old weathered blue pick up truck and the radio playing your favorite tunes. You had your slender bare feet sticking out the window and your pink nail polish gleamed in the sunlight. Oh you were so beautiful to me. We pulled up to the lake and parked. It was quiet and peaceful.

A little surprising for a Sunday but just the way we wanted it. We both got out and gathered up the basket and blanket from the bed of the pick up.

“Where do you want to set this up? I asked, because I always left that decision up to her.

“Lets go over under that oak tree to the left of the little hill. That will give us a great view of the lake but give us a little shade when the sun starts to get too warm.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” I replied.

We walked over to the oak tree and laid out our colorful quilt on the cool grass. I sat the picnic basket down beside it for later.

“Let's go for a stroll around the lake.” she said

I took her by the hand and we lazily walked for a little while. Just enjoying the view in content silence. The sky was a perfect baby blue without a cloud to be seen. The sun glinted off the lake and the grass was lush and a dazzling emerald green. The day’s temperature was a breezy seventy five degrees. A flock of geese skimmed low over the water to land, breaking the surface with a loud, raucous sound of flapping feathers and water splashing. The birds were singing relentless tunes that cascaded down from the nearby tree tops. Overall it couldn’t have been a more perfect day to have a picnic. We slowly made our way back to the quilt to take a seat and relax. Sunday was always a day we used to rest and to take a moment to catch each other up after a long work week. Martha worked as a nurse and I worked at the nearby automotive factory.

“How was your week at work my dear? I asked her.

“Long and a little sad. We had an older lady pass away that had been in our care for about a week. Her husband was there and he looked so haggard and just completely heart broken. He told me even though her memory had gone long ago he still had a hard time letting her go. She had Alzheimer's and you could see the horrible toll it had taken on her husband.”

She looked at me very seriously and said “If I ever develop Alzheimer’s don’t do what he did. Don't keep hanging on to me, when you know my memory is gone. It's a cruel and slow death for the person with it but most of all the loved one who is caring for them. Just promise me, you won't hang on to me like he did. Move on and keep living.”

“I can't promise something like that.” I replied very bluntly. “I made a vow when I married you, that I would stand by you through sickness and whatever life throws at us.” I will not abandon you.”

“I know you will but there might come a time when my memory is gone and without my memories, I will only be a living and breathing shell of the woman I once was.” She told me earnestly.

I could see this really had upset her in a way that I couldn't understand. She had seen first hand how awful the disease was but I had not. So the thought of ever just moving on while she was still alive was ludicrous to me and not something I would be willing to do.

“Hey, let's not talk about such things on such a beautiful day. We have many years together before something like that might happen to us.” I said.

“Just promise to remember this conversation if this does happen to me, know that I would want you to move on and let me go. Can you at least do that for me? She asked.

“Yes my love, I promise to remember our talk and your wishes.”

“Thank you.” she said in obvious relief.

The rest of our day just flew by in a flurry of laughter and love.

The nursing home loudspeaker crackled to life, "Attendee needed to room 325 please. Attendee needed to room 325. Thank you.”

That jolted me out of my story telling. Martha was staring at me with her twinkling green eyes.

“Oh my love, it's you.” I said to her tearfully.

I wrapped her in a hug and told her I loved her because who knows how long her memory would last this time. Everyday it got shorter and shorter.

“I love you so very much Thomas.” she said to me as I crushed her against me.

“I love you too.” I replied as I still held her tight. I was afraid to let her go just yet.

You must let me go.” she mumbled into my shirt.

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn't mean to squeeze you too tight.” I said to her quickly.

“No you must let me go.” She told me as she caressed my face with her trembling hand.

“You know what I mean. You promised all those years ago you would.” she said tensely.

“No my dear, I promised I would remember your wishes on the matter and I have. Everyday we remember that together. I told her.

“You have always been hard headed.” she laughed.

I hugged her tight once again and she hugged me back until her grasp loosened. I let go and looked at her face as she spoke the words I didn’t want to hear.

“Do I know you?” she said to me.

And just like that, she was gone from me again. My heart broke into tiny little pieces and sadness enveloped me in a tight embrace. My chest was being squeezed in a vice-like grip and I gasped for air. My hands started to shake and silent tears made burning tracks down my face. I sniffed and roughly swiped away the tears. I patted her hand and abruptly got up and walked out of the room. Alzheimer’s, such a weird name for such a cruel disease. I know one day I must do what she asked and let her go. But how do you let someone go who is still alive and breathing in front of you? I know her memories are just about gone. How ironic is it, that the memory of her asking me to let her go, is the last memory she still has alive? I will honor her wish but not until this last memory has perished.