5 Alive

The projects were some different distractions and yet non completion disheartening.  The focus was limited.  Her brain a buzz of thoughts.  Plummet...it happened quick. Perhaps a thought...something seen, a smell...they tears came fast and hot.  Her heart beat hard and her chest hurt.  Great sadness had her.  This is part of the process as told by the doctor, psychiatrist and alzheimers family counsellor. She was losing the man who raised her.  The non biological dad.  Papa.  Everything felt wrong. Her mind boggled at the fast changes in him. What it caused in her....so much. No fix. It was haywire.  Sharp, twisted, unknown, fear inducing, and sometimes had an added zap.

Your hand was so small in mine. I held tight and leaned so as not to lift you off your toes. At 3 you were only Wee with big brown eyes.  My bright little star.  I hated when I placed you on my shoulder and felt your hot tears. You were afraid. So often at bedtime this happened. I would never mind. It was more worrisome. I knelt beside your bed. My head on the side. You are tucked in but chatter away with questions.  Often I fall asleep before you.  So much is wrong and so much I don't know. Here for a bit each night. You gone to your fathers on weekends.  Your not mine in blood. But in my heart you are Wee one.  Forever you deserve the moons and the stars and beyond. My brave girl. I'll always be there for you.  Love Papa Don