Flash Fiction Contest - 300 Words
|"Remember when . . ." stories are always with me. During the good and the bad, there was always a story. They gave me what I needed. My ancestors taught me the importance of remembering and passing on a story. Today, my mind is full of people and events. Though I can no longer speak, the pages and chapters of my life are like a well-read book.
My memory loss started with forgetting names, looking for glasses, and forgetting my keys. Later, my son Barry got involved. After his visit, I remembered his hand waving in front of my face and him telling his Dad, "Nobody is home." I thought about this a lot. How can one's mind be empty and then remember every word and movement?
Barry put me in a nursing home. My stories keep me company and help me pass the time. One day I'm a little girl and then a mother.
Barry and his wife came to visit, I was remembering a story about him. We visited Santa Claus at the mall. Barry, four years old, screamed, we had to leave. He thought Santa had claws. What a memory!
I'd been thinking of a way to let my son know that my mind was still working. I tried it on the Santa story. With eyebrows raised, I rolled my eyes, held up four fingers and pointed to the cedar outside my window. Come on , Barry you know the story.
My daughter-in-law laughed and whispered . Then the story from the past happened again - Barry waved his hand in front of my face and said, "Nobody's home."
I miss my son, he doesn't come anymore.
But the memories continue and no one knows that my vacant stare is the characteristic of someone lost in the magic of a story.