Chapter Three:Impact upon those whom are the memory.

Struggling.

     One day I awoke with a startle because the world I went to sleep to that night was broken even more then I thought it could break.  My Grandmother called me a liar, my Father called my Mother a liar, and here I was unable to say you're not the person you were once before because now something has invaded your minds.  We began walking the path of becoming the memory to those we love and in the process of our walking the rocky road we struggle with words we cannot say for they would fall upon someone whom didn't realize their minds were being attacked.  My words are starting to set me free but his mind is keeping from fully expressing what he needs to express.  How can this be happening to us again?  Why does anyone have to suffer with a disease of the mind?  Questions flow on forever never finding the answers we need right now.  But in time I believe they will eventually find an answer however that comes when those I love today are long gone along with myself.

   My Grandmother laid there peacefully in her bed as I walked in to check on her it was as if she was asleep but this time she was not breathing nor did she have a beating heart.  I was not afraid of finding her deceased because this was not the first time I realized a Grandparent was no more.  We called the hospice nurse whom came over and whom called the mortuary to come pick up my Grandma.  He was the same man whom picked up my late Grandfather.  He placed my Grandmother onto the gurney with the same gentleness as he did for my Grandfather.  It was not a dead person to him but a dear loved one whom deserved to still have respect as they had in life.  He looked down upon her face remembering when he helped her with Granddad's cremation and the warmth in his expression made me feel that she was looking down with the same warmth at us.  My faith is Spiritualism where I believe our Spirit lives onward long after our bones vanish from where they lay.  My Grandparents were the same way and so was my Father but the last few years I felt that he wants to no longer be inside his physical being.  His physical is breaking down to the point his legs do not work the way he would like them too.  It saddens us that he no longer can play the game of golf he loved so much.  There are times his face appears to be blank as if he can no longer escape from his prison'd body and escaping through death is his only way.

     It is getting harder and harder not to see Grandma's journey in his eyes as he too walks the same path she did.  I want to run, run, and keep running but these chains are more binding than any chain I forged years ago because he's my Father I cannot leave him to walk this journey alone.  Yet he is walking it alone for my mind is not like his nor shall it ever be that we all have our own journey's and challenge's life to face.  I am not sure if I am ready for this challenge but I am walking.