Friday, April 26, 2019

Six Sentence Stories - Memory

Although I am linking up to Six Sentence Stories - Memory just a little late, I had not forgotten. I just had a few irons in the fire. Denise of Girlie on the Edge's Blog provides the link up for this blog hop. Don't forget click here to read the other Six Sentence Stories. You will be glad you did.



When she told them what had happened, she could sense their doubt, but even repeatedly telling them only caused them to try to distract her by changing the subject.

Her vocabulary, once on the tip of her tongue, now was often captured, like a victim held bound tightly to her tongue. 

People no longer had names that she could remember, although some faces still looked familiar, but the setting was all mixed up. 

She had so many things she wanted to say, but her words and recollections combined in a jumbled up fashion when she occasionally was able to utter something, and those not used to communicating with her sometimes just raised their eyebrows or shrugged their shoulders not knowing how to respond.

The questions she had fluttered like butterflies in and out of her mind, never there for long, and not allowing her to give them a voice. 

She could only hope that someone, anyone, would somehow instinctively know what she needed and when because her entire life was becoming a fleeting memory.



10 comments:

  1. Oh my goodness! This is one for the feels.

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    1. And even more so for those who have interacted with those who have these kind of challenges and wish they could turn back the clock, and of course for those who may be in the beginning and middle stages.

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  2. "The questions she had fluttered like butterflies in and out of her mind, never there for long, and not allowing her to give them a voice
    what an evocative sentence... very powerful.

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  3. Oh, Pat. You have given eloquence to the voice of far too many - those experiencing the "challenges" and those of us witnessing.
    The line Clark quoted. It is also my favorite.

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  4. My cousin was diagnosed with Alzheimer's several years ago (she's only 8 years older than I am). She knew she didn't always remember things she was told, so she when she would ask a question, she would say "I'm probably going to ask you this again". And she would. But she never remembered she asked the first time. I like to think that this cruel illness is kind to the one's who suffer from it, and that they DON'T know that they don't remember any more.

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    1. I like to think that too, Dyanne, and pertaining to many things that is true.

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