Soul Flares
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2005-11-22 23:35:55 (UTC)


I guess I probally should have written this earlier, but
maybe I was afraid to. I can't really say; but I don't see
any other reason for putting it off like I did. I love my
grandmother, but she's sick and has Alzimers, that's not
spelled right, but it's a mental disorder. More or less it
means you forget things.

I wrote a poem about it, about being afraid that the next
time I'd see her, she'd have forgotten me, and I felt bad
for praying that she died before she forgot me. Only I
didn't get my wish. Last time I went to see her, she; well
most of the time I was there she knew who I was, but the
last night I was there she forgot. She didn't know who I was
or what my name was.

She asked me and I answered. I feel good about that because
I was so scarred that if she asked I wouldn't be able to
take it. That I'd break down. I almost did afterwards, but I
didn't when I was there, and in the end I didn't cry so it
was fine. Still the whole point of the poem was my fear of
something I knew was comming, something I knew no amount of
preperation before hand could stablize me for.

I was right too, because although it didn't hurt me as much
as it did mom, it still hurt. I wanted to cry, and maybe if
I didn't feel like I couldn't cry, I would have. Maybe. It's
just sad to know that now, I've faded away, that to my
grandma now, I'm a face without a name, or a name without a
face, or nothing at all. That's what's hard, the being
nothing at all.

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