There’s
something about this time of year, when a little rain mixed with unseasonably
warm weather produces fog. I’ll admit I’m not a big fan of fog. For one thing,
it’s a little spooky to be driving along and hit a heavy patch of fog. For some
reason this always seems a little bit like driving into the Twilight Zone. Makes me halfway expect to
hear strange music and to see Rod Serling, dressed in a suit and tie, standing
alongside the road ready to hint at what’s really going on in the depths of the
thickest fog.
Fog
scares me, especially since the night I was driving along a gravel road after a
visit with Jim at the nursing home and hit fog so thick I couldn’t see
anything. I stopped and with trembling fingers dialed my son’s phone. I was afraid
someone would come along and ram into me.
“If
you can’t see anything then surely no one else is driving either,” he said.
While
I sat there waiting for the fog to lift, I couldn’t help but think how
Alzheimer’s is like a fog blanketing cognitive skills. Sometimes, fog just
drifts in and out, but other times, it halts us in our tracks.
After
a few long moments, the world became visible and I could see the road. I drove
to my son’s house. When I worked up the nerve to head on home, he still thought
it was risky for me to drive, so he led the way. His taillights were like beams
shiny from a lighthouse directing me to safety.
You
can be that beacon for your loved one when the fog is the thickest.
Early
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2 comments:
Lovely sentiment, Linda. we all need a guiding light sometimes.
That's for sure! Some of need those guiding lights more than others. I'm thankful that I have two sons who are always there for me.
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