It’s late, my hands itch and this isn’t a metaphor for my strong desire to write.
My feet and toes itch too.
They almost burn, that’s how much they itch. I’ve been scratching at my hands with no relief, just more itching.
This is new for me. (maybe I have more understanding for my friend who has eczema). Maybe, I still have no idea.
I feel as if I must write before bed. I’ve been feeling rather melencholy (spelling?) lately and I cannot seem to shake it. I feel like my self-esteem is perpetually shaken; my even footing often so easily slipping off again. It’s all just rubble.
I watched a 20 minute video on Aeon about dementia and what a family goes through in order for their mother to be put in an independent living home. Toward the end of the short film the mother who assures her daughter she does not want to go is told by the daugther, given an ultimatum really, that she just needs to go for a trial run (3 months) to see if she likes it. If she doesn’t like it then she can come home. A friend talking with her is trying to talk sense into mom later who clearly agreed to the 3 month trial to appease her daughter, and her friend says, “Riki, come on, even if you don’t like it you’re probably not ever coming back home.”
And the short film ended.
It didn’t fade out, it just stopped. And so did my ability to maintain any hopefulness.
And then the thoughts came about my parents ageing and how sad this will be when one of them goes, and then another.
Then the thought of me as an old woman came and I sat with how much I love myself as an old woman and how I can’t imagine her being treated poorly, forgotten about, turning childish or having dementia, forgetting her lovers and family and being forgotten by them as well. I wondered how quickly my shelf life would outrun. how quickly would I also cease to exist. How short my life would be and how little or much would I accomplish? Who would my husband and children be? Will I be happy? And, I just saw myself as this sad little old lady who laughs at my 34.88 year old self crying about her.
aukwordbird 