I had someone tell me that those with alzheimer's are lucky in a way because they are in their own little world. I looked at him and thought he was nuts and I told him so. It has to be horrible to look at your children and not know who they are. Not to mention the loved ones. I know what it is like to have my mother look at me with a look of confusion and asked, "Who are you?" It hurt. One day I walked into her room and she smiled and hugged me. I thought she knew me but she looked at me and said, "Did you stop and visit your mother today? How is she?" I realized she had no clue who I was. What would I do if I could not remember my kids or my family and the good memories? To me, that would be worse then dying. It would be just existing and I would never want that.
A week before my brother died, I called and talked to him for awhile and when I started to feel down, he started to cheer me up by talking and laughing over some of the things we did when we were kids. I realized what he was doing. He did want me feeling bad so he wanted me to remember the good times. The last thing he said to me was, 'I love you, Darlene.' That is one memory I will cherish and smile about.
Memories are like blankets that cover us and comfort us when we are sad. We can choose what to remember and I chose to remember all the fun times we had. I choose to not to remember the bad things that happened in my life.