Like a Thief in the Night

 Alzheimer's destroys the mind - and in the process, annihilates the very self.  
 -J. Kluger

Like a Thief in the Night
It starts with the littlest of things. A misplaced set of keys. Putting the wrong date on a check. Forgetting an appointment. 

After a while, there are whisperings of the word 'dementia'. No one really thinks too much about it because as we age, our bodies and minds start to go. Death knows no boundaries. It is something we just know will eventually happen. 

The repetition grows old. You've heard the same story so many times you could tell it yourself. Holding a conversation is difficult because recent events are easily forgotten. But the past, it sticks around. It is detailed. It is familiar. 

But even those familiar details become blurred. Some of the story is still true. The rest of it is filled in with new places or people who have nothing to do with the story. 

Moments of clarity exist, but are rare. At least some of the memory is there. 

Keeping a routine becomes a necessity. Familiar people. Stay close to home. Don't go too far. 

Night becomes day. Day becomes night. Time altogether becomes irrelevant. The month, the year, the days of the week pile on top of each other. Understanding length of time is forgotten. 

Using the telephone becomes too difficult. The television has too many buttons. 

Pajamas stay on all day. Showering takes too much time. Brushing teeth and combing hair are not important.  
Behavior changes. The adult moves out and the child moves back in.

Names are lost, secrets are now buried. 
Laughter is gone and tears dry in place.
Blank stares. Hollow eyes. Thin cheeks. 
Weight is lost. Scent is lost. Sight is blurred. Taste is gone. 
Light is gone.

She is gone. 

He wants to go. 

He needs to go. 
He's gone; and now he is with she.
-T.B. Williams

Remover of Obstacles

While reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love, I became intrigued by the symbolism of the Hindu God Ganesh. So, last summer in D.C., I was elated when I found this wooden statue in a little store near our hotel. The storeowner was a kind man with peaceful eyes and a gentle heart. He inquired about my interest in Ganesh and I told him that I found the symbolism and message behind this Hindu God to be both interesting and inspirational. He paused, handed me a pencil and paper and asked me to write down a message: 

Peace 

Prosperity 

Harmony 

Wisdom 

Obstacle remover 

Good luck 

And then he paused one more time before saying, "The last part of Ganesh's blessing is of most importance to you. Good health."

I looked at him with tear-filled eyes and could only mutter a simple "thank you." He smiled, handed me the box he had put the statue in, and then turned to the next customer with a "May I help you?" I quietly left the store, but will never forget that a man who knew nothing about me, taught me that no matter the race, religion or culture, humanity encompasses all. 

I hope to become like the kind shop owner who shares his love with each person who enters his door.

My weiner has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R........

I drove home from work today on my regular route. No changes, no detours, just a typical drive home. I live in a rather pleasant area. My brothers and I do think it is a bit "ghetto", but try to avoid using that term around our mom. 
Growing up we loved our home and our neighborhood: lots of kids, a big back yard, trees to climb, cul-de-sacs invented for night games, trampolines, bike rides, sledding, snow ball fights and forts and snow men. Basically, it was your typical suburb- but that was [25] yrs. ago. However, today . . . . well today was different. As I was turning the final corner on the street before I reached my house, there it was. A huge, gigantic, more-than-words-can-describe, hot dog on wheels. It was parked in the driveway of a neighbor. I don't know this neighbor. I know nothing of this neighbor. But sure enough- someone in that house drives a wiener. Someone wakes up in the morning, takes a shower, has a bowel of cheerios and then heads out to their wiener. Can you imagine the jokes? "How's your wiener,?" or "Nice buns," or how about "Pardon me, but do you have any grey poupon?" (A few from my brother) "How many miles to the gallon does your weiner get,?" or "Is that weiner a V6 or V8,?" or maybe "Where do you park your weiner?" - and his favorite - "So . . . where do you sit . . . at the tip?" And, last, but not least, when you cut someone off in traffic and they scream "DICK!" - they're correct!

Works Cited

Bailey, Trisha. "The Weiner Mobile." Web log post. Tirschk. Blogger, 08 Aug. 2005. Web. 09 Apr. 2015. This post was originally published on tirschk, my personal blog. Most of the text has not been changed. I added a few additional items and opted for a new title, but the rest of the article stays true to its original format.