Night is always approaching,
although now it seems larger,
its embrace wider.
As vision darkens
into a permanent blur,
will your mind follow?
Synapses blocked by too much
time accumulated inside
too many poisoned days.
Entangled in destruction,
each year shortened
by greed and complacency.
So many endings waiting
to repeat the between–
the overlapping of then and now.
Is this the point
where the circle meets,
where return is final?
Your species shadows
your short and fragile life
into a permanent unknown.
Your body is weary–
your mind has already departed–
the path is clear.
You always knew where
you would be going—the after
of the generation before.
And yet enough remains–
seeds still to be planted–
you scatter them while you can,
hoping to fertilize the roots
of that tree growing
from and into the center of time.
Ingrid has asked us at earthweal to visualize our lives in 10 years and choose one word to describe what we see.
My mother’s last remaining sibling just died, and her husband 3 months ago, the last of that generation in my family. My aunt was barely 17 when I was born, and married in her late 30s, so she spent a lot of time with our family when I was a child, teaching me to swim and to knit, as well as serving as an example of a single woman with a full and useful life.
Like my mother before her, she spent her last 10 years consumed by Alzheimer’s, a double death, as the mind preceded the body in severing its connection with the world.
Dementia has always been part of aging, and was once considered both a manifestation of witchcraft and a punishment for human sin. But Alzheimer’s in particular is a modern disease, partially genetic, but also probably triggered by environmental factors, or cultural factors like smoking, alcoholism, over-medication, poor diet, lack of exercise, and obesity which are also related to our generally self-destructive lives.
When I think of my life in 10 years, I can’t help but see only uncertainty–will I also succumb to this horrible disease, if I live that long? Longevity is a mixed bag in my family, but I’d rather have my body fail me before my mind does.