I have been thinking a lot lately about the life of my mind, the life I live while living just in the thoughts of my mind. Most of my thinking is extremely personal but one thought I am having more often is the life of a mind that no longer has a robust memory component. My mom has lost most of her memory, memories of long ago and a few minutes ago. Memories of her life, my life, and the lives of all her loved ones. Memories of good and bad. Memories of concrete, what she had for breakfast, and memories that are much more abstract, God, faith, heaven. It is also very personal in that all the great events of my life she has no memory of. I have begun to wonder what my mom thinks about if she cannot remember most of her memories; her days are mostly endless alone with herself and her mind but what does her mind construct to fill these long hours alone? My mom hasn’t lost most of her immediate memory, she knows where she is, who Betty and I are, and can converse well in the immediate. However, anything that requires memory she can no longer participate in. It causes her constant fleeting frustration but she can immediately revert back to the here and now, me present with her. Yesterday we spent several hours riding around her beloved Cumberland Co but she never recognized a place until we topped the hill of her assisted living at which point she happily exclaimed, “Oh look, I’m home.” Maybe part of going to heaven is the increasing loss of earth's attachments including, often sadly for us, most of the earth that we shared with them.
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| My mom she wouldn't remember. |
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