My Fading Friend

I noticed it- little by little - a few months ago. It started to be hard to hold a conversation with you. You would constantly ask and re ask questions that I had already answered, so I knew you weren’t retaining the information, so I couldn’t tell you things.

That meant so much. It meant that I couldn’t call you with my good news and get to hear your enthusiasm mirror mine. It meant that I couldn’t come to you when I was worried or scared about something. It meant…that I couldn’t come to you at all much longer.

Of course, we still talk and I try to spend a lot of time with you. I answer your repetitive questions, it isn’t a problem for me. I don’t mind having to tell you things more than once. I don’t mind that you forget almost as quickly as we’ve talked about it. I know your heart and I know I am in there.

It has just changed now and it is both ok and not ok at the same time. It is ok because i love you still and always will. It is not ok because I already miss you. You were the one who never gave up on me, even in the thick of the worst times of my life. You bandaged my arms, you took me to therapy, you held my hand and rubbed my head. You rocked me to sleep, you toted me on your hip, you showed me how to be a strong woman. You drove me to college and helped me decorate my dorm. You sang while you cooked, you took me fishing, shopping, dancing and to softball games. It is hard to see this happen to you.

I dread when you don’t know me, but I am trying my best to enjoy this time now, while I am still seen as a friend and not a stranger who is just in your home.

I love you. I hope you know that and feel that at the very least.