ToLoveaStranger
桑德·史密斯 / SandeSmith
Aparentsinceshewasfifteen， .
， shesitsinanursinghome， tappingherfingersonherchairinasyncopatedrhythmthatremindsmeofbebop， talkingtoherselfaboutherfather， whodiedwhenshewaseight.
“Mildred...Mildred.” Isay.
Shelooksupatme， hereyesbrighten， andhersmilerevealssnaggleslikethoseofafive-year-old.“Comehere， babydoll， ”shesays.
Irushovertoher， pullcloseachair， andsitdown.
“Hey， Mildred， howareyou？” Idon’’tanswertoMommy.
MymotherwasdiagnosedwithAlzheimer’sin1984， ， ， whenIwouldcallhome， shewouldbeupsetbecauseshe’dlosthermoney.“Mommyneverloseshermoney.” I’dthink.
， diet， andmedicine， andthroughtheadditionofChineseherbs， mymother’， despiteprofoundphysicalimprovement， theAlzheimer’scontinuedtounravelhermindoverthenextsixyears.
Ilivedwithmymotherfrom1984to1990， ’—， she’dwalkincirclesaroundhischair， ， she’， shewouldrundownthestreet， ’dcometobelievethatshewasapoliceofficer—.
Thisisnotmymother， ；， ， silverware， dishes， ， she’， notshe， hadmovedthesethings.
“Comehere，” she’dsayforcefully， grabbingmyhandandpullingmeintoherroom.“？ Theytookit.”
Tolearnmoreaboutthedisease， mysisterandIattendedgroupsforfamiliesofAlzheimer’’swastalking， nother.
Asthediseaseprogressed， ’dsay， “What’shappeningtome？ Whycan’tIremember？”
BeforeAlzheimer’s， ， shebecamestrangelyfreewithheremotions， cryingwhenfrightened， expressingangerwhenfurious， ， webothbecamecalmer.
， I’dturnonTinaTurnerorJanetJackson， andwewoulddanceanddance.I’dplayherfavoritesongsonthepiano， andshe’dplaceherhandontopoftheolduprightandsingeachnoteandeverywordperfectly.
