Porthole

And so the mighty fall

RIDVAN

I wasn't sure what day it was. My mind slowly slips. I'm making strange typos. I can't remember certain things. Oh, it could just be aging. Old Timer's Disease. Four head injuries don't help.

Seen on space book:

"Someone once said when u love someone with dementia u lose them twice, (once when they are diagnosed & again, when they die). This is called “Ambiguous Loss.”

‘Rapidly shrinking brain’ is how doctors described it. Dementia is tragic. It's a nasty thief. As the patient's brain slowly deteriorates, they change in every way, & eventually forgetting who their loved ones are. Patients may become bedridden, unable to move, speak, eat or drink."

I'm supposed to write about a package today. Time to go to the post office to see whether I've received any. Nope. Just bank statements. Tulips in bloom.

Poem: "April 24: a package or a delivery [49]"  Just realized I forgot to post a poem I wrote a couple days ago. Done.

And so the mighty fall (U of Kansas, years ago):

2,220