The Dark Intruder


Today. A day to be forgotten. A day of hell. It was here, all around. I couldn’t catch it, I couldn’t beat it, I could not even scream, yell, or swear at it. It filled the house with its presence, taking a hold of my mind, and trying its best to make me crazy. I found myself, covering my ears tightly, not wanting to listen anymore. I found myself weak physically.  I wanted to cover my eyes, and pretend it wasn’t there. I went to the bathroom, my haven, where no one can reach me. It followed me. I went and poured myself a cup of coffee, but it remained. The day continued on, not getting better but worse. For a short time, I stole silence. I surrounded it around me like a freezing child wraps himself in a blanket. I dove in the middle of it and sucked the life out of it, smiling to myself, as I knew I was taking all that I could. I took a moment, tuning every noise, into silence. I rested. I prayed. I felt better, but then I awoke out of my deep thoughts to it. Once again I prepared myself for battle. I felt guilt. I had just sat there and prayed to Jesus, and yet here I was, standing in preparation for war. I felt Jesus coming through me once again. Patience, and soft words came out of my mouth, as I tried to explain the many questions being thrown my way. I found myself smiling as I looked at him and saw the innocent face, and the pleading to understand. It was like looking at a man-child. I looked over my brother’s shoulder, and saw God standing tall, with full armor in tact. I knew at that moment, I was not alone. We were going to fight this dementia together.

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