31. Townsend In My Head
I’d been trying to avoid the reality for months. At first, it was only in my head, little things. Forgetting where I’d left my keys, why I’d gotten in the car, a date Becks and I had had on the calendar for months. Had I eaten lunch? But those things were just a normal part of aging, weren’t they?
But then, little by little, I could feel Becks beginning to notice too. When I’d ask why she was dressing up, who was coming to dinner. When I forgot the name of our daughter’s boyfriend. And then, worst of all, scariest of all, when I got in the plane and, for just a moment, a beat of a beat, I forgot the checklist. That was when the panic set in. I immediately began to sweat, my heart racing. But then Becks, in her soft and sweet way, got me back on track as though it was normal for me to forget a part of my life as automatic as breathing.
Last week, I got in the car to go see Daniel. And, as I pulled onto the road, for just a moment, I couldn’t remember where to turn. The office I had spent my entire career in, in a town where I had spent the majority of my life. I nearly broke down right then and there. When I got my wits about me and made my way to the office, Daniel confirmed that I do, indeed, have the signs and symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. I can barely stomach writing that because I know what it means. It’s early yet, but the idea of losing my faculties, my memories, the names of my children, of waking up beside my dearest Becks and not knowing who she is… It’s too awful to bear. Daniel has asked me to quit flying by the end of the summer, which pains me in the depths of my soul. Being in the sky is a part of who I am. I do not want to live when I cannot fly, but, alas, it is not my choice to make.
I’ve begun writing myself notes, making detailed plans in my calendar, creating routines that are more rote. I know I will have to tell Becks soon. Even though she is too caring to push me on it, I know she senses something is wrong—and when she needs me most. She hasn’t told me yet that she is unwell, but of course I know. She is trying to protect me, and so I’m willing to wait. I need to be strong for her. Especially now. And so I will wait as long as I can to confess the one thing I hoped would never become true.
The idea of forgetting the love of my life is too much to bear. But I have to think that somewhere deep down in my soul I will always feel her, always know her. That no matter what happens to my memories, her heart will forever remain a part of mine. As it always has been.