memory of her

Okay, this is the third attempt of writing a sensible blog entry. The first two were blah. I don’t even know what I was writing about. My mind’s busy thinking of a nice introduction for my reflection paper for English. This will be the last paper I have to write for English forever. Wow, I was actually surprised that after so many years of studying English or Language or Reading, I am down to my last paper. Surprising, I realized that note just now, while writing this post. Wow. *still trying to register the thought to my mind* Anyway, I have the brightest of all bright ideas for my reflection paper. Since it’s a reflection paper, it’s most likely a personal essay on a specific event in my life. I actually have an event already, and I don’t really understand why I chose this event. It never slipped my mind to write about the topic until I was writing down different events in my life during the weekend.

I decided to write about my lola’s Alzheimer’s disease. I didn’t really understand what Alzheimer’s was before since she was diagnosed of it 8 or 9 years ago and I was really young then. All I knew was it affects a person’s mind and forces you to think like a child and to confuse the names of your grandchildren. Remember the McDo commercial on the lolo confusing the name of Gina and Karen? I think the poor old man was diagnosed of the same disease as my lola. So during that time, it was as simple as that. I even thought that kind of disease would wear off like a fever or colds. But it never did. After another 8 years, my lola passed away. She never gained back her strength or her present memory. All she remembered was the people in her past, excluding my lolo or her children. Until she died, all she talked about was the imaginary dogs not being fed or the virtual children playing in front of her. It’s sad to see her doing things which do not appear normal to children like me. What’s even worse is that I cannot do anything but look at her and even pity her condition. I was too young then, I couldn’t understand why she had to wear diapers or why my aunt had to bathe her and dress her up. And it’s only now that I realized that I could’ve done something for her other than avoid her and somehow feel embarrassed of her condition.

And then I thought of my own mother. What if she grows old like that as well? I don’t know if I can look at her the same way I do now. I don’t want to see her feeling handicapped and helpless. I don’t want her old friends to see her and pity her (when I know that behind my mom’s back, they’d be mocking her condition). But most of all, I don’t want to do nothing. I don’t want to waste another chance to do something for the people that I love. I don’t want a memory of me to be erased from them permanently.

I hope I can finish this last paper I have for English and then offer it to my lola. Probably, this paper would reach her and she'd know how regretful I am. I love you nanay meding. :)