Written journey

     When we are brought into this world, we breathe each second towards our last. We grow and leave the nest only sometimes remembering how much sacrifice was given so that we could be what we are today. Then as if being forced to remember the memories of the good things begin to fade like weathered paint. We become a version of our past self that holds little in the way of happiness because those brief moments get lost in the scattered life we try to remember.

     This illness affects so many of our beloved ones, leaving us helpless and tired, so very tired of trying to help them believe their world and how they perceive it, is all right. Trying to relive memories with them in the hope that something you say will capture them if only for a moment. We spend our entire life capturing knowledge and storing it away never thinking that someday it would fade away like the last stars before sunrise.

     All of us will reach that last breath that began at birth, and all of us will struggle to remember what has long past, but only some of us will have written it down.

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