It’s morning. I open my eyes and look around. Unsurprisingly, I don’t know where I am. These days, I never know where I am. I’m in a bed in a place that looks sterile and bland. It’s the most terrifying thing ever, to not remember. I try so hard to remember. I try every day, but every day it gets more and more difficult as I can feel the people I know I love but can’t remember and the person I used to be getting a little further out of my mind’s reach. Sometimes I have flashbacks so vivid I feel like I’m there. Sometimes it’s snippets and feelings. But it always feels like memories from long, long ago. It’s rare that my mind gives me a glimpse of the recent past or the knowledge of what is happening in the present.
“Good morning, Mrs. Aggie!” says a women in scrubs as she walks into my room, interrupting my struggles to figure out where I am and how I got here. “How are you today?”
“Who are you?” I demand, a little more roughly than intended. It’s hard to be friendly to people who seem to know me but are strangers. It’s hard to be cheerful when every day is spent terrified, lonely, and confused.
“I’m Becca,” she says cheerfully. “Nice to meet you again. It’s time for your medicine!”
She dumps some pills out of a small plastic cup and into her hand. She holds them out to me and offers another plastic cup of water in her other hand. I’m so confused and I feel a rush of anger. I don’t want to take pills. .
Without thinking, I slap the pills out of her hand. “No!” I snap. “I’m not taking that!”
She sighs but doesn’t seem angry. “Mrs. Aggie, you know you need your medicine. It’ll help you feel better.”
“Agatha,” comes a kind voice from the other side of the room. “It’s ok. Take the medicine.” I look towards the sound of the voice. Sitting there is a man. He looks vaguely familiar but I can’t place him. I can’t help but notice his eyes. They are wrinkled and sagging, but they have a mysterious twinkle in them that takes my breath away. “I dare you.” And he winks at me.
I don’t know what it is about his voice or his words, but they calm me immediately. I’m still scared and confused, but I feel more at ease, even though I still don’t know where I am or who these people are. I take the new pills the nurse offers and swallow them with a sip of the water she offers to me.
I think about his words. “I dare you.” Where have I heard this before? I know there is a memory somewhere. I search frantically through the corners of my mind to see if I can find it. This trying to remember makes my head hurt so I close my eyes and the world fades away from me.
***
The sun is so bright I have to hold up my arm to shield my eyes. I can feel the grass prickling my bare legs and a drop of sweat rolls down my back. My tongue rolls gently over my bottom teeth and finds the empty spot where a tooth used to be. Across from me, my best friend sits, digging in the dirt. She flicks her long, chestnut colored braids behind her back and wipes her brow with the back of her hand. She leaves a trail of dirt and I giggle.
“You’re messy!” I say.
She shrugs. “I don’t care!” and she flings dirt at me.
There are two women gossiping and smoking on the front porch of the little blue house we sit in front of. “Girls,” one of them says lazily. “Don’t throw dirt.”
We start to turn back to the dirt piles we are building when a voice comes from across the street. “Hello!” says a woman carrying a casserole dish. A sullen boy with a blond bowl cut and mischievous blue eyes drags his feet behind her. They make their way to our yard. “I’m Shirley, and this is Robert. We just moved in. I brought you some of my world famous blackberry crumble!” She closes the distance between her and the two ladies on the porch and hands one the dish. “Now go on Robert, you can play with those girls! They look about your age. Six?” She glances at us and we nod. She turns back to the porch women. “He wanted to go play with the older boys but he’s just too young to keep up. Go on, Robert.” And she nudges him towards us.
He reluctantly walks our way, dragging his feet, and plops down in the grass beside us. “I hate girls,” he informs us, but he starts digging with us. Soon he is giggling with us and we are all covered in dirt. A man comes out and sprays us with the hose and we laugh and play in the warm sunshine and I’m happy.
***
A few years later. Lizzie, Robert, and I are inseparable. Robert has long since given up trying to keep up with the big boys in the neighborhood and has resigned himself to the fate of being friends with us girls. One day, when the cold chill has started leaving for the spring but it isn’t yet that warm, we sit with our legs dangling in the creek.
“I dare you to jump in,” I say to Lizzie.
“No! The water is cold!” she protests.
“It’s a dare,” says Robert. “You have to!”
“Yeah, Lizzie,” I tease her. “I would NEVER turn down a dare.”
She stares me straight in the eye. “Oh yeah?” she says. “I dare you to...too..” she glances over at Robert. “I dare you to kiss Robert!”
Robert scoffs. “Forget it!” he spits out. “It’s ok, Aggie, I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to do it just cause it’s a dare.” He sees the look in my eye and starts to get up, but before he can run I’ve pinned him on the creek bed. I plant a quick kiss on his closed lips and stand up.
“See?” I say to Lizzie.
Robert stands up and spits. “That was disgusting. I know you’re a girl but if you ever do that again I’ll clock you right in the face.”
He leaves and Lizzie and I laugh and laugh. Lizzie doesn’t jump in the creek. But I make a vow to never turn down a dare again.
***
They’re trying to get me to take my medicine again. The man isn’t in the room at the moment but there are two middle aged women with bags under their eyes. “Mom, please,” one of them says.
“No!” I cry, but this time the nurse is quick and moves her hand before the pills go flying. And then a word comes out of my mouth that I haven’t said in years. It’s a very bad word, and as I say it I can taste the bar of soap that my mom forced into my mouth once when Lizzie dared me to say it and she overheard.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” I say. “I didn’t mean it. Please no more soap.”
“No soap, just pills,” says the nurse. I don’t want soap in my mouth again, so I take them.
***
I don’t know how much time passes. Probably more than I remember, because I’m so in and out of awareness. Things from the past keep coming back to me. A white dress and the words “You may now kiss the bride,” and a handsome man saying, “I dare you,” before kissing me and officially making me his wife. Babies cry and I rock them to sleep. A chubby hand in mine as we walk down the beach and pick up seashells. None of these people have names, and their faces are blurry. I think I lived a good life, I say to myself. I hope these memories are mine.
***
“Grandma, hi,” says a girl sitting in my room. Grandma? Who is she talking to? She’s looking at me.
“Don’t call me that!” I snap. I don’t mean to. I just don’t understand why she is calling me Grandma. I want to understand.
Her face falls, almost too briefly to notice, and a shadow crosses her pretty blue eyes. In an instant, she puts a smile on again. I know it’s fake, but I can tell she is trying not to let it bother her. “I’m sorry,” she says. “How are you feeling today? Do you want some water? Or anything else?”
“I want to get up,” I say flatly. “I want to go for a ride, Lizzie.”
“I’m Sophie,” she says. Her face breaks into a mischievous grin and she winks at me. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Sophie,” says the man, who has been sitting next to her quietly watching this exchange.
“It’s ok, Grandpa,” she says to him. “Just let me try, ok?”
She comes back with two nurses and a wheelchair. It takes the three of them plus the man to pick me up and get me situated in it, but soon I’m free of the bed. She pushes me down the hall and outside into the sunshine. “We can’t go far,” she says. “But I thought you could use some fresh air.” She starts pushing me down the sidewalk, the breeze on my face.
“Faster, Lizzie!” I say, and she obliges. “Faster!” She’s laughing and I’m laughing and I feel better than I think I ever have.
I close my eyes and feel the wind rush against me, and suddenly I’m transported again. A memory surfaces, while I’m awake. I’m in the wheelbarrow and Lizzie is pushing me down the hill. My braids fly behind me and we are going faster and faster and she’s running to keep up while the wheelbarrow rushes out of her hands. We are laughing and laughing and the wheelbarrow tips and we go flying. We aren’t hurt. We laugh and get back up and Lizzie says, “My turn!”
We drag the wheelbarrow up the hill and Lizzie gets in. As we rush down the hill, it topples over again and she screams. Her screams of delight turn to screams of terror as it is suddenly a different night. We’re older, in a car. Darkness, a flash of light, pain, and Lizzie’s screams. “Lizzie!” I hear myself scream before everything goes black. Her screams echo as I open my eyes and I’m back in the sterile room. “Lizzie!” I scream. Her terrified screams still ring through the air. People rush in, there’s a needle. As I drift off to sleep, I hear one last scream. I realize it’s not Lizzie screaming this time, like she did that night in the accident when I lost her at the too young age of 17. The screams are coming from me.
***
The man never leaves my side. The others come and go, but he is constant. Usually there is at least one other person with him, but sometimes it’s just him. I’m glad. I’ve decided this man is good and his presence makes me feel safe. He sits in comfortable silence and talks when he thinks I’m up to it. He never seems angry or upset that I don’t remember anything or that I don’t know who he is. He doesn’t correct me or make me try. He just lets me be. I get crabby with him sometimes on accident, but he doesn’t seem to let it bother him. I wish I knew his name. I think I ask him sometimes, but it doesn't matter because I can't ever remember.
The days go on like this. I grow weaker and more confused than ever. My mind has betrayed me. My body has betrayed me. And though my mind and body may have given up, but somewhere deep down in my soul I want to keep fighting. I just don’t know if I have it in me.
I hear them whispering things like, “not too long left,” “fading fast,” and “take her home.”
My head hurts from trying to remember. My body hurts from trying to live. I’m just so exhausted I can’t even think. So I sleep.
***
The next time I remember waking up, I’m in a new place. It’s comforting and familiar, though I can’t quite place it. There are pictures on the walls and pretty curtains on the windows.
Home. The word comes to my mind. This is home.
My eyes are heavy and I fight to keep them open. I hear a wheezing sound and realize it’s my breath. It hurts. I try to sit up but I don’t have the fight left in me. “Just lay down, Mom. We’re here,” I hear, and when I look around I see them. The room is full of people. They look sad, concerned, even broken hearted. I don’t know who they are, but another word comes to my mind.
Family. This is my family, and this room is full of love I can feel even if I don’t know why.
I notice my hand is enveloped by something warm and steady. It’s him. The man from the other place. He’s holding my hand. I meet his eyes and something clicks.
Robert. My Robert, all grown up and old and more handsome than ever. Tears spring into my eyes, remembering him as a sweet young boy and feeling so proud of the life he must have lived. Something warm and wet rolls down my cheek as I search my mind for the years between then and now. They elude me but I feel in my heart that they were happy years. I hope and pray that I’m right.
“It’s ok Aggie. We love you, but you can go now.” He bends down and places a kiss on my forehead, so soft and sweet and full of all the love I somehow know we shared for all of these years. They were so long but rushed by so fast. He whispers in my ear, so faint I barely hear him. “I dare you.”
With that, I close my eyes for the last time and I feel myself dwindling into unconsciousness. I take one last breath, confused, broken, and weak, but not alone or lonely. Never alone or lonely. My last feeling is the feeling of love wrapped around me like a soft blanket, the one thing that has supported me all these years.
There’s nothing but darkness. Peace. And finally, I remember everything.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
10 comments
So I may have cried a little inside... but it was such a great story, and I loved every moment of it. Beautifully written.
Reply
ok i literally cried..
Reply
Thank you for reading. I don’t want to make you cry but I’m honored to write something that can bring out emotions!
Reply
this story was very heartfelt i loved it.
Reply
Thank you!
Reply
No problem
Reply
This story kind of reminds me of the couple from the book "the Notebook" by Nicholas Sparks. Very beautiful.
Reply
Thanks so much!
Reply
Aye jeez that was one sad story. It really made me wonder. I loved how the protagonist was recollecting some of her earlier memories and it made for a heartwrenching interpretation as to why people with Alzheimer's confuse the names of those around them - an interesting hypothetical insight into how it could work. Not sure the narrator would remember the old man and the fact that he's the one who keeps coming back into her room, but what do I know. I liked the theme of the dare, and the last one was something else for sure. Ruthless tear-jer...
Reply
Thank you so much for your kind words! It’s a devastating disease for sure.
Reply