2003-11-14 - 1:46 p.m. Love 9 Alzheimer's I loved someone once. I can�t remember who. I can�t remember what they looked like; how they smelled. How she smelled� It was a she. I can picture her silhouette against the morning sun. We were in a field. I can feel the green grass moist and wet between my fingers. I can see the clouds rolling by, too quick, she is moving too slow. Is this real? I can smell the subtle scent of apples in the tress in the liquid cool mist of the autumn breeze. I can feel her hand touch mine, as she comes into the light, so slightly�so brightly. No, this can�t be right. My hands are so old. My skin is so brittle. My body is in this room�somewhere. I can�t remember where. I can�t remember my love. Was it in a room? I can remember her outline against the crackle of a fire. I can see her hair�brown�curly and tossed to one side as she�s looking back at me. I can�t hear her voice. I can�t touch her. But I can smell her perfume. A familiar and comfortming smell, like that of a rainshower. A quick and darting sensation of heat runs in my veins. But I forget what this is about. Why am I here? What is going on? Where am I going? Where is my love? Who is my love? She is sitting next to me in a car�a car with tan vinyl seats. I think this was my old Chevy cutlass. She is touching my leg, but her hands look older�mine look younger. She is smiling, but I can�t see her face. The sun is setting and it�s too bright. I want to talk to her, but I can�t speak. Why am here now? What does she want. Why can�t we talk. She said something. Peter? My son. My son peter. I remember him. Is he my only son? Do I have other children? This woman is my wife. Why is she reaching out to me? What is going on? I can see her again. We are on a beach. It�s bright out, but the sky is dark. Peter is flying a kite. This woman, my wife, is close to me. She is stretching out towards me. She kissed me on the cheek. She smiled at me. I can see her face. But now I only see the ceiling. Where am I? Why is she gone. I am scared. I am alone. I know it. Why did she leave me? All I feel is this terror in my stomach like everyone else knows something I don�t. All I know is that I keep coming back here, to this room, to this bed, to this place. I keep seeing these people. I can�t remember their names. Sometimes I can�t remember their face. I can�t seem to remember the places I am, but all of that seems so familiar. This seems so empty and vacant. These walls are so cold and stark. People are here, and I am in the sun for just a moment, but then it�s all gone. Not like this needles in my arm, or this pain in my leg. Those remain. What is happening to me? �I love you� I can hear her voice. I can see her face. It�s young and beautiful and so far away from me now. To far away. I can remember it all again. Sara, my love, she is my heart. We met on the porch of her father as I was delivering papers, and she teased me. We fell in love. We went to school, and got married not soon after on the beaches of the Cape, outside on a beautiful deck that was built, I swear, just large enough to hold everyone we cared about. Soon after we bought our first house, and I was told in the sunroom of that house that she was pregnant�with Megan�our first child. Megan and Peter. They were our children and they grew up in that house, in that town, in our care. We grew old. We held hands every night together on the couch as we let the time pass us by and the clouds roll so quickly past the view from our living room. She used to love the sound of my voice, and I would make her stop me talking, because I was always deprived our her voice when I went on too long. But then something happened. A problem? I can�t remember. I think we loved each other. I can�t seem to put my finger on that problem. What happened? Where is she? I would never have left her. � Who would I have left? What? Where am I? Why am I in this room? What is going on. I can�t remember anything� But�I think�. I think I loved someone once. | |||||||||||
