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| PROMPT -© Marie Gail Stratford |
When I was a child my mother showed me a photograph of a silo on her uncle’s farm. Fascinated by the cylindrical building, I asked if she had ever played in it.
She explained patiently the hidden dangers on the farm. Kids would never enter a silo or grain bin
unsupervised, as it's easy to be trapped by flowing grain and suffocate.
"But that didn’t stop us from exploring it alone," she said with a huge grin on her face.
"But that didn’t stop us from exploring it alone," she said with a huge grin on her face.
She flashed that same grin when I visited last week.
"Visiting someone?" she asked and continued chatting with the attendant.
To read what is happening in the other silos you need to go here.
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To read what is happening in the other silos you need to go here.
That was a sad twist at the end there. Atleast she has the same spirit if not the memories! Good one.
ReplyDeleteHaving the same spirit counts when memories start fading away. Thanks for reading and commenting Ansumani.
DeleteOh dear! Sad and sweet at the same time! Nice one.
ReplyDeleteRosey Pinkerton
That's life for you. Thanks for commenting Rosey.
DeleteWhat a sad tale.. How easy it to appear normal in the abnormal situation..
ReplyDeleteEveryone has their own level of normal, things are never what they appear on the surface. Thanks for reading and commenting Björn.
DeleteI didn't find this sad, but rather bittersweet and poignant. Nice writing.
ReplyDeleteAnd that is what life is. Thanks for commenting I am glad you liked it.
DeleteNicely done, but, for a moment or two, AnElephant struggled to punctuate that last line.
ReplyDeleteSo did I, it was a toss up between direct and indirect speech. But thanks for your feedback, I have now changed it so there is no confusion.
DeleteA scary view into a potential future: to be the same person, yet not the same person. Great story.
ReplyDeleteTrue everything looks same but yet is not the same. Thanks for reading and commenting.
DeleteOh, yikes! Well done. I'll bet she misses her mother's grin.
ReplyDeleteI think what people miss are the moments of lucidity and normal conversation. Thanks for your comments Alicia I am glad you liked it.
DeleteSo sad that when memory goes. Nice contrast between her earlier vivid recollections of her childhood antics, and her present state.
ReplyDeleteIt is sad indeed for all concerned. Thanks your comments Margaret, I am glad you liked it.
DeleteDear Subroto,
ReplyDeleteThat's quite a sucker punch at the end. My husband is experiencing this with is mother, too. Very hard. Same smile, but not the same mom.
Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
I've seen it with a few people and the pain is greater when it is someone you have known in their prime. I feel for your husband. Thanks for your comments as always Rochelle.
DeleteI remember our visit to my mother's uncle Charlie when I was about seven. He would ask Mom who she was and where we lived. She told him and he would break into a long funny story about a man and his mule who lived on that property. When he finished the story, he would ask again who we were and promptly retell the same story. He was full of laughter, but didn't have a clue who we were. That was the last time I saw him alive.
ReplyDeleteMy father suffered from dementia too, but he was not as jolly as Uncle Charlie.
Thank you for sharing your true life stories Russell. It is harder when someone you know and love is involved.
DeleteAlzheimer's? Or maybe breathed in too much grain dust.
ReplyDeleteThe WSJ link only gives you a paragraph before demanding a subscription. To be expected, I suppose.
Possibly the former. Thanks for reading and commenting.
DeleteI can open the WSJ link but that might be because I am outside US..maybe?
That was quite a twist there at the end, I didn't expect! I think if I had a silo to play in as a child it would be hard to avoid. Nicely written.
ReplyDeleteIndeed it would be hard to resist the temptation to explore. Thanks for commenting Amy, I am glad you liked it.
Delete