One of my greatest fears is that someone I love will develop Alzheimer's as they age. I'm not sure precisely why it's Alzheimer's that scares me most profoundly; perhaps because I place an abnormal value on being loved and loving (I've always said it's my only ambition) I consider the complete negation of that the most terrifying thing ever. Because that's what Alzheimer's really does--it makes it very hard for you to love someone in the fullest way, and they do cease to love you in the way they once did. It is very, very hard for me to live with the idea of a disease that might make it so that my mom doesn't know who I am. Or S. I can only imagine devastation, and mourning. Isn't that what it really is? Death, while the body lives on?
The only reason I'm bringing this up is because on Kottke this morning, there was a link to a NY Times article about an artist who painted portraits during the years of his own forgetting, and I looked at these and my heart broke. My heart broke because I don't think I've ever seen such a visual display of how clearly horrible Alzheimer's is. I just can't imagine an artist having to watch his skills disappear; I just can't imagine making the descent into cubism involuntarily. I think I have looked at that slide show five times this morning, because it is hard to look away from, because it is a portrait of the process of losing it all.
There is a film called, actually, "The Forgetting" and I know that I should watch it. I have wanted to watch it for a long time, because it is supposed to be excellent. I'm sure it is also heartbreaking, just as I am sure that those portraits above are. And I suppose that I will be living with this fear of mine for a long time, for as long as I love anyone, or they love me.
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