My Disappearing Act: Into the Abyss of Dementia by Todie West

Author:Todie West
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2019-10-25T18:11:52+00:00

Chapter 27

To keep my memories fresh, I try to look through my photo album every day. Grace finds me smiling, as I pore over the pictures. She is interested in knowing who everyone is. I try to recall as much as I can.

“Is that your mother?” Grace asks. “She looks like me!”

“Yes, she does.” I hug Grace. “And Grandpa. Like your dad.”

“Grandpa has more hair.” We both chuckle a little.

Grace wants to know more about my parents. I have word-finding difficulties, but I do my best. “They were nice, but Dad was hard.”

“Mean?”

“Sometimes.” Even if I could tell her stories, I’d rather remember the good times.

Grace turns the pages. She points to another picture. “You were a beautiful bride.”

“Thanks. You know Chet’s dad?”

“Not really. He drinks a lot.”

“Yeah. I remember.” I then point to baby pictures of Chet.

“Uncle Chet!”

“A good baby.” As with most photo albums, there are more pictures of the first born than anyone else. There are pages and pages of Chet, every milestone, every birthday. And When Chet is about 10, the pictures of Mark take over and I remember not being able to catch Chet smiling because his stepdad had no patience with him.

“There’s my grandpa. He looks so young there.” Our wedding attire was more casual, since it was a second marriage for both of us. It was a small ceremony at the courthouse. Mark’s dad was married only for a short time to his first wife, and they had no children.

“You see him?”

“My grandpa?”

“Yeah.”

“Not very often. He lives in Drake Valley, but he’s usually too busy traveling with his new wife.”

“Married?” I am surprised.

“Yeah. Not very long, maybe a year. She’s a lot younger than he is.”

“You like her?”

“I haven’t seen her enough to know. She’s not very friendly with me, but she might just be shy.”

I smile at Grace. I admire her grown-up attitude, even though most adults would be quick to judge, instead of pointing out what could be a logical reason for the way someone acts.

“Who’s that?” Grace points to a picture of Dale and me on our deck overlooking the lake.

“Dale.”

“Oh, yeah. Your husband. Have I met him?”

“Maybe.” I really don’t recall.

“I don’t remember him.”

Oh, how I wish Grace had gotten to know Dale. He was such fun to be around, always joking and laughing, though not so much now, I suppose, since he’s been ill. So many lost opportunities. We could have had fun with the girls at our place in the mountains.

We hear a door slam. “Grace! Come down here! Now!” Denise does not sound happy, but she rarely is, unless she is putting on a show to impress someone she thinks is important, which, of course, means she never wants to impress me. I would prefer her to fake being nice to me than ignoring me or looking for a way to criticize me.

“Coming, Mom.”

Grace is so graceful. Sometimes I think if she stood up to her mother, she wouldn’t get treated like a doormat. I could have said the same thing about my relationship with my own dad, but that’s all in the past.

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