On Angels’ Wings

Excerpt

Was there a beginning to Mom’s Alzheimer’s? There was. Buried somewhere in the tenuous strands and filaments of her brain, delicate protein fibers began to grow. They grew and grew and stretched and grew until they started to choke the spaces between her neurons, interrupting the paths of energy and thought and flow, and causing memories to disappear; but these events were far too deep and too subtle for us to perceive. For us, on the outside looking in, perception began when we slowly noticed that things with Mom were not as they used to be. There were odd behaviors and actions that we were swift to chalk up to her being older, or more bitter, or whatever other reason we could imagine or suppose.

There will always be clouds—
No matter how bright the sun of life begun,
It’s fun and joy perceived, believed . . .
There are always clouds that come. . . .

                                              Deborah Lynn