Sunday, September 9, 2018

trudy came with r. today. the neurologist says she's worse, it's likely alzheimer's. her g.p. says it's the same. it's more of the same. we talked about change being the only constant. said sometimes it's just a slogan, some people talk of hope and change all the way to the bank, sometimes change is just the same old shit. and we're left with memories and the things we keep forgetting and can never remember when it matters so much. until we forget that we forget. we may not know then how bereft we are. i don't think that is release. i recall some guy, oh i just remembered, it's that country and western singer, the rhinestone cowboy, said he drank to forget until he didn't need to drink anymore. his smile looked so pained. our face will show everything we can't tell.
trudy keeps going back to a little aluminum teapot, this is so cute, is it from me? no it was grandma's, your mother's. in a few moments she will go back to the teapot, she will ask, hoping to remember it, hoping to remember one thing, to bring back memory. 
r. says t. wondered on the elevator if she'd ever be back here. the strange thing about memory is that it's a location. losing memory is being lost. it may be a location only in the mind. it may move wherever you move, and change as the mind changes, but as long as there is memory, you are here. you may pick up and object and say, here. i'm here. 
now i remember rosebud. i remember madeleine. i remember i'm a little teapot. it could be something, it could be anything. everyone alive would say if i forget please forgive me, please remember me. without you i know i will be lost.

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