Personal Narrative Essay On Alzheimer's Disease

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It was faded red, and slow: on Volkswagen time. Others rushed impatiently. It said, “Speed limit will do. No hurry.” A no-nonsense vehicle. The engine sounded like rattling chains, and could al-ways be fixed in the back yard. We took it through new brakes, a rebuilt transmission, and a fully overhauled engine. It took us to the Catskills, around Vermont, and across country, pulling a U-Haul trailer through a blinding storm. It was a van, not a camper, with makeshift bed of plywood and hinges. When trailer and storm slowed us down to a crawl, we stopped and unfolded the bed. We waited it out—had plenty of time, and our dog to keep us warm. By morning the rain was gone, and the van had its second wind. We left the rest stop and merged with ease,…show more content…
On the surface, I had good reasons for staying on the east coast another couple of weeks after I left my job at the United Nations. I had just married, and my husband and I were packing up to move to California. We gave up our flat and stayed with friends while he straightened out some child support issues. We had planned, after leaving New York, to swing up to Vermont for a couple of days to visit friends before making the drive across country. Then there was this: My husband, an African American, had barely ventured outside of New York except for the year he spent in Vietnam. I had my doubts that he would follow me, in the Volkswagen van, pulling a U-Haul trailer, if I had flown back to California without him. He had some trepidation, probably not baseless, about leaving the illusive security of Jamaica, Queens and driving across country. I believe I had asked my parents if they wanted me to fly home, and easily accepted their reassurance before the surgery that they were pretty optimistic about it but would let me know if my return should be expedited. After the surgery, my father seemed to be recovering well, was back at home, and was looking forward to seeing me and meeting John. Their confidence, which in retrospect may have simply been a reluctance to burden me with worry, fed my innate tendency to minimize health problems. Other
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