Descriptive Essay On Fading Memory

996 WordsSep 25, 20174 Pages
Fading Memory My grandparents have been together for 52 years. My grandpa has a very witty sense of humor and always jokes about not knowing when their anniversary is or says he feels like they have been married for 80 years, instead. Of course, my grandma does not find this very amusing, but other people seem to love his humor. The way that he can make people laugh is part of what makes him the inspiring man he is. Now, he is not the way he used to be. When he says he forgets something, it is not him cracking another joke; it is his mind giving up on him. My grandpa used to be really intelligent and sharp. He was successful and even had his own business in construction, building houses all over Indiana. He was always the head of the…show more content…
He never seems to know that I have heard them already. I always listen and pretend he has not told them to me a thousand times before. He cannot perform the same tasks that he used to be able to. Not because he is older, but because he does not remember how. Even the things that, ten years ago, he probably could have done in his sleep now seem like rocket science. How could he be so passionate about his job one day, and not remember how to do it the next day? I still struggle to realize how this is possible. I don 't think my grandpa feels in control of his life anymore. Everyone can tell that he gets super frustrated with himself when he can’t remember something. He definitely does not know that he’s as bad as he is, which is distressing to watch. My grandma gets agitated when he repeatedly asks the same questions or forgets to do little things like take his medicine. She gets overwhelmed and gives him a hard time every once in awhile, but I understand how difficult it would be to live with him. I already see his dementia progressing, but it would be terrible to sit and watch his disease get worse by the minute. She tries to stay strong in front of our family, but I can tell when she just wants to burst into tears. I have only seen her cry once in my lifetime. It was about four years ago and I was eavesdropping, what I do best. I carefully tiptoed out to the living room where my mom and grandma were talking about how bad my grandpa’s memory had

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