Mrs. Marie is 45 and still, she looks as pretty as she was when she was 19, as seen from the photos. She has had some accidents in the path and as a result of which she lost her memory. Her bones are weak and mind, even weaker but she still looks as pretty as she was when she was just 19.
I am Adam, I'm 16 and I work as a caretaker at Marie's, She owns a small coffee-cafe where I sit whole day at the counter, serving people and earning cash, which further is used for bread and all the medical expenses of Mrs. Marry.
Also for part I tech guitars to kids on holidays. I call her Aunt, "Aunt Marie" and we live alone in the house at Park Street.
She loves to knit, and she loves to hear stories. She has her days in terror when someone close visits to her and she is not able to recognize them, she probably feels she's mad or they are criminals trying to fool her.
She screams and scratches her head and cries at night, it's just the flashbacks she gets during nights that stop her from sleeping and then I tell her stories with my hands pampering on her head making her feel that she's not alone.
like I'm there and I'll always be.
She hates injections and when I see her scared all I do is to hold her hand and just say "You can do it" ..."You are strong".
Someday's it's just the opposite I don't see any future, it all seems so blurred as if winter fog-ed it and all I see is despair and grief like the rapture has lost somewhere. But then no matter how long the night is you gotta open your eyes and fight the day before it gets to bed again.
I've been helping her since last four years, and doctors bet that we are going somewhere. But, I'm sure it'll take some time to for her to recall her total memories and go out from the virtual world to the actual one.
So as suggested by the Doctors every day before she sleeps, I tell her stories but now I'm bored with the stupid animal stories and I bet she feels the same. So these days I tell her about my family. I tell her the story of my mom. So the Story goes like......
My Father was a Professor and my mother loved cooking and I was just a Twelve-year-old kid who hated going to school and hated Injections too.
Every day before the suns bright light kiss the soft grasses on Earth, My mom gave me a kiss and with her sweet voice I used to open my eyes and the first visible thing to eyes was her smile, the shine she owns the lady she was.
I love listening to stories especially those of animal kingdom and the romantic stories of Prince and Princess. Well, I imagine my crush being the princess and me the King.
Some nights are different, I see nightmares I scream and this lovely lady who is also my mom runs to me to see me. And then she tells me stories with her hands on my hairs and with a kiss on my forehead she turns the nightmares into a fairy tale.
She's is strong and I guess she knows magic.
Still, today when I close my eyes I see her holding my hand and helping walk down the streets and cheering me when I was new with my bicycle, saying "You can do it" But it's all gone now.
I remember Dad got a Job offer from the other state and he had to leave, but he came every Sunday to visit us.
Things were perfect except the "go to school everyday part" but then there's this Sunday which changed a lot of things, maybe not to the world but definitely for me.
It was the perfect weather for a Sunday to be, a little bit of Fog, a cold slight sight of snowfall and a road trip with family at a speed of 60 with the songs of "The Backstreet Boys" at the back.
I don't even know why I remember every single thing from this story, maybe because it tore my soul apart.
Well, 60 sounds good, doesn't it? Unless you get a hell of smashed by a fast flying Truck. But, guess what that's what actually happened.
And my eyes opened I saw blood all over me all around me, they took us to the hospital and Dad could not make it out alive.
But the worst nightmare turned true when Mom saw me and said "Who are you" I was too young then to understand "Alzheimer's or Dementia" but now I do. In other words, the accident made her lose her past memory.
Doctors said it's just a matter of time and she'll be fine again. But It's been years now and I haven't even heard this word Son in a while.
Her name was Marie and I miss her.
I call my mom "Aunt Marie" and she looks as beautiful as she looked when she was 19 as seen from the photos...................................
I am Adam, I'm 16 and I work as a caretaker at Marie's, She owns a small coffee-cafe where I sit whole day at the counter, serving people and earning cash, which further is used for bread and all the medical expenses of Mrs. Marry.
Also for part I tech guitars to kids on holidays. I call her Aunt, "Aunt Marie" and we live alone in the house at Park Street.
She loves to knit, and she loves to hear stories. She has her days in terror when someone close visits to her and she is not able to recognize them, she probably feels she's mad or they are criminals trying to fool her.
She screams and scratches her head and cries at night, it's just the flashbacks she gets during nights that stop her from sleeping and then I tell her stories with my hands pampering on her head making her feel that she's not alone.
like I'm there and I'll always be.
She hates injections and when I see her scared all I do is to hold her hand and just say "You can do it" ..."You are strong".
Someday's it's just the opposite I don't see any future, it all seems so blurred as if winter fog-ed it and all I see is despair and grief like the rapture has lost somewhere. But then no matter how long the night is you gotta open your eyes and fight the day before it gets to bed again.
So as suggested by the Doctors every day before she sleeps, I tell her stories but now I'm bored with the stupid animal stories and I bet she feels the same. So these days I tell her about my family. I tell her the story of my mom. So the Story goes like......
My Father was a Professor and my mother loved cooking and I was just a Twelve-year-old kid who hated going to school and hated Injections too.
Every day before the suns bright light kiss the soft grasses on Earth, My mom gave me a kiss and with her sweet voice I used to open my eyes and the first visible thing to eyes was her smile, the shine she owns the lady she was.
I love listening to stories especially those of animal kingdom and the romantic stories of Prince and Princess. Well, I imagine my crush being the princess and me the King.
Some nights are different, I see nightmares I scream and this lovely lady who is also my mom runs to me to see me. And then she tells me stories with her hands on my hairs and with a kiss on my forehead she turns the nightmares into a fairy tale.
She's is strong and I guess she knows magic.
Still, today when I close my eyes I see her holding my hand and helping walk down the streets and cheering me when I was new with my bicycle, saying "You can do it" But it's all gone now.
I remember Dad got a Job offer from the other state and he had to leave, but he came every Sunday to visit us.
Things were perfect except the "go to school everyday part" but then there's this Sunday which changed a lot of things, maybe not to the world but definitely for me.
It was the perfect weather for a Sunday to be, a little bit of Fog, a cold slight sight of snowfall and a road trip with family at a speed of 60 with the songs of "The Backstreet Boys" at the back.
I don't even know why I remember every single thing from this story, maybe because it tore my soul apart.
Well, 60 sounds good, doesn't it? Unless you get a hell of smashed by a fast flying Truck. But, guess what that's what actually happened.
And my eyes opened I saw blood all over me all around me, they took us to the hospital and Dad could not make it out alive.
But the worst nightmare turned true when Mom saw me and said "Who are you" I was too young then to understand "Alzheimer's or Dementia" but now I do. In other words, the accident made her lose her past memory.
Doctors said it's just a matter of time and she'll be fine again. But It's been years now and I haven't even heard this word Son in a while.
Her name was Marie and I miss her.
I call my mom "Aunt Marie" and she looks as beautiful as she looked when she was 19 as seen from the photos...................................
To be Continued.
-Ashwini
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