I take her hand and walk with her through the darkest forest she has ever encountered; darkest, even, than those forests of her childhood’s dreams which, I am sure, fascinated her, but also frightened her.
Although we are over a thousand miles away from each other, neither time nor distance will ever be able to alter or change the deep love we have for each other. Nothing whatsoever, because it is a love that manifested when my tiny soul drifted onto hers to share nine months of an unmatched intimacy. A love that would last, not only, a lifetime but for all eternity.
Imagining her seated next to me, I whisper close to her ear, with the silent, yet powerful, language of the heart, not to be afraid; not to be afraid because we will continue walking together for however long she needed me. We will continue walking together finding each other, always, regardless of time and distance.
While caressing her hand, I look at her and see that her mind, lost in intervals of now and then, lost in the midst of that barren and somber landscape of pervasive memory loss, is still there; her mind is still there, although, I don’t know for how much longer.
In the midst of it, I witness, powerlessly, her sense of self disappearing a little, before my eyes, with each passing day. Disappearing a little, with each passing day, while having to accept that there is nothing I can do to stop this cruel, insidious illness from robbing her of the only thing that can truly offer some solace while walking through the challenging path of growing old: Memories.
It is disheartening. It is disheartening because even though I promised to her that I would accompany her every step of the way, a time will come when, I am certain, she will not be able to find me, and I will not be able to reach her within the entangled labyrinths of memories she will no longer have.
She will not find me because with each step forward she will take, she will reach a threshold I would not be able to cross with her. A dark, unfathomable threshold that will keep her memories trapped, forever, until the moment of her last breath.
And, watching her walking away from me, I will be left standing there, heartbroken and dejected, mourning our inescapable, merciless separation.
On the surface, it will look as if life had taken over; it will look as if life had taken absolute charge, severing forever our mother-daughter bond, severing forever our connection. But only on the surface.
At a deeper level though, there will be, still, one thing, however, I will be able to continue doing: I will continue whispering to her sentient eternal soul to use the beating of my heart as a subtle, yet powerful, drum that could invite those long lost, treasured memories to dance around her and embrace her providing the comfort only cherished and endearing memories could gift her with.
Suzanna is a published author. She became a bibliophile at the age of seven when resorted to reading to deal with severe asthma. After the tragic death of her youngest son, Suzanna published a memoir, in 2021, as a tribute to him. Suzanna can be contacted at [email protected].
