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Description
A dear friend introduced me to this wonderful gentle man, recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. We chatted, he was telling me about his work... then he kind of faded.
My heart aches to think of what that must feel like.

Then he would flash that grin and take off talking about something completely different. I smiled back.

Years ago I wrote about such things. The Forgetful OracleShe was a mature soul with a quick smile and eyes that flashed. She said "Your secrets are safe with me, you can tell me your most private moments and I won't remember them tomorrow". So I did!
In that big light filled room we sat and chatted. About it all. The stories wound back and forth, of love and sorrow, smiles and fears. And how we were when we wore younger clothes.
After, I thought about forgetting. The wonder of discovering what a Super Nova is, three or four times a year. Reading the favorite poetry book and "hearing" it for the first time, again.
Or meeting a new visitor and seeing the sad shock when you ask their name. Telling the story and not having a clue where it went.
She was telling me about the neighbors nearly ex-husband, his womanizing and jealousy. Then she said "His girlfriend called me up and told me how she was across the street-in a phone booth-with a gun-and she could see him in the window. And she was so mad at him she was going to shoot him." "Where did thi

Description
A dear friend introduced me to this wonderful gentle man, recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. We chatted, he was telling me about his work... then he kind of faded.
My heart aches to think of what that must feel like.

Then he would flash that grin and take off talking about something completely different. I smiled back.

Years ago I wrote about such things. The Forgetful OracleShe was a mature soul with a quick smile and eyes that flashed. She said "Your secrets are safe with me, you can tell me your most private moments and I won't remember them tomorrow". So I did!
In that big light filled room we sat and chatted. About it all. The stories wound back and forth, of love and sorrow, smiles and fears. And how we were when we wore younger clothes.
After, I thought about forgetting. The wonder of discovering what a Super Nova is, three or four times a year. Reading the favorite poetry book and "hearing" it for the first time, again.
Or meeting a new visitor and seeing the sad shock when you ask their name. Telling the story and not having a clue where it went.
She was telling me about the neighbors nearly ex-husband, his womanizing and jealousy. Then she said "His girlfriend called me up and told me how she was across the street-in a phone booth-with a gun-and she could see him in the window. And she was so mad at him she was going to shoot him." "Where did thi