“Today is a good day!”
That
phrase escaped Helen’s lips as a sigh. Helen could remember what
happened all that day: breakfast, how good the oatmeal tasted; and,
even the joke her nurse Alice made about Helen’s thick curly white hair.
“Why,
you have more hair on your head than I had when I was only twenty!”
They both had laughed. It was true; even at the age of eighty, Helen
had fluffy thick hair that looked like a cloud, a mound of snow.
‘It’s
my birthday! Today!’ The thought occurred to Helen as she moved to
the window. ‘My daughter Maude is coming in a while and she will bring
my favorite cake.’ Helen even remembered the phone call she had
received from Maude just minutes ago. ‘It’s my birthday!’
Alice
walked to Helen’s side and took her elbow. “Would you like to sit on
the deck, Helen? It’s a rare lovely day, and Lord knows, we won’t have
many more of those when winter moves in on us!”
“Oh,
Alice! I would love that. Maude will be here shortly, and I want her
to see me sitting outside. To see me enjoying the last leaves.” Helen’s
brown eyes sparkled at the thought of Maude coming and finding that today Helen remembered her oldest child.
Alice
escorted Helen to the outdoor chairs. Helen was still vigorous,
strong, and often argued with Alice about all the ‘fussing over me—I am
not a child, you know…’ Alice spread a pale pink lap quilt over Helen,
and told her that Maude would love to see this quilt being used.
The
woods before her were filled with leaf-covered paths. The last golden
leafs reminded her of a “yellow brick road” from that movie. ‘What was
it? Oh, the “Wizard of Oz”…’ Her eyes followed the paths and the bare
branches arched over the yellow leaf paths.
Helen used to gather up those leaves into bouquets and give them to her mother, “A last bouquet ‘fore the snows, Mama!”
An
idea sparked in her tired brain, and she acted on it. “A bouquet!
That’s what I’ll have when Maude comes! She will be so surprised!”
Her feet moved down the steps and onto the paths, the pale pink quilt slipping to the deck.
Helen
was sure she knew this path, from somewhere. ‘Oh, yes! This is the
path I always take when I walk. Oh, of course. Mama
wants me to get some flowers for the table at dinner.’
Helen walked forward into the fog of the days behind her, into the fog coming over her mind.
Hands
filled with leaves, Helen sat down on an old fallen log and looked
around her. She was so tired. Letting herself slide down the side of
the log, Helen curled up against it, and laid her head onto the rough
bark. ‘I’ll rest here for just a moment. Mama will be cross if I’m
late.’
Snow
started falling slowly at first and then built up speed. Soon the
paths, branches, fallen trees, and an old woman with fluffy white hair
were covered in a layer that made the world white.
The
voices calling ‘Helen!’ went unanswered. As the day moved into night
and the snow grew from a few inches to a solid foot, the voices turned
to sobs.
On the table in Helen’s room sat a pink birthday cake. Maude knew that Helen like the color pink.
Alzheimer's is a terrible thief.
 |
| from Bing.com |
P.S..
This story is based on a true event. My father's cousin developed
Alzheimer's in her later years, and left her caretaker's house in Michigan. She was
found when the snows melted, not too far from her house.
We will be visiting our son and family. They are in Illinois and we are in California. So far away! But I will be putting up previous posts from the early years. Please, please leave comments. May 1 - 8.
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