Wild Cat

” I guess you can sit here.” She patted the seat beside her. He looked down at her, not quite sure whether he could trust her.

She was a wild cat, this woman. He had known her for a few months. The two of them met while they both sat and fed the birds. Each came with their own plastic bag filled with crumbs they had saved all week.

At first she smiled, and he took this as a sign to join her. Then…

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Wild Cat

” I guess you can sit here.” She patted the seat beside her. He looked down at her, not quite sure whether he could trust her.

She was a wild cat, this woman. He had known her for a few months. The two of them met while they both sat and fed the birds. Each came with their own plastic bag filled with crumbs they had saved all week.

At first she smiled, and he took this as a sign to join her. Then she began to change. She went from that friendly face to that of a vicious wild woman. Eyes popping out. Teeth worse than any Jack-O-Lantern face. Claws once kept by pretty colors of nails now white daggers.

The first time Millie did this it scared Bob. He jumped up from his seat, getting as far as he could from her. The next time he saw her, she smiled and asked, “Where ya been?” He looked at her and scratched his head. ” You about bit my head off old woman the last time I was here. What’s the matter with you anyways?”

” What you talking about Bob? I come here every week. You know that. We feed the birds together. Now quit talking that nonsense talk and sit down.” Bob sat down and their visit went fine, just the way it should have.

For several weeks everything went  normal until once again Bob walked up to sit down, and she stood up and gave him a piece of her mind. He decided that was it. He wasn’t coming back to this seat again. Women, can’t figure them out, but he knew this one was a wild cat.

Bob changed his days for the park. He didn’t see Millie for some time. He emptied his plastic bag and on his walk home decided to stop and look through the newspapers sitting at the stand.

There on the front page was the headlines Missing Local Woman. He picked the paper up and quickly grazed the words. He didn’t plan on buying a paper today and didn’t want to get shewed off.

There was the photo of the woman he had been feeding the birds with. Wow, she was missing. He put the paper back as neatly as he could and finished his walk heading home.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the small, oval kitchen table going over in his mind the story of the missing lady. He thought back to all the talks they had in the past. Did she mention anything that could be important? Nothing really came to mind.

He fixed himself a bite to eat and then taking his shoes off he laid down on  his bed to rest. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not that she was really important to him. In fact when he usually thought of her she wasn’t anything more than a wild cat.

The paper said she had family. Hmm, she had never mentioned family to him before. He just figured she was a widow or maybe an old maid. He sat up in bed as he remembered how she used  to talk about the swings. Millie used to watch the kiddies swinging and talk about how much she used to swing and kick her feet back and forth to see how high she could go.swing

He also remembered that she had said she grew up near by. What was the name of that town? Oh ya, Collins, ya, that was it.

He laid back down determined first thing in the morning to find a way to this little town.

Next morning, washing up and finished with breakfast he called a buddy of his who agreed to take him on his search. He paced the floor waiting for the honk of the car to sound. He headed out the door and the two were on their way.

Collins was only about five miles a way, so it didn’t take long at all. ” Lets’ drive around until we see a park or a school. They drove up and down the streets and then there was a turn off onto a dirt road. On a hunch they took it. It was pretty short and when they came to an opening, there sat a weathered, run down building. An empty flag pole stood all alone. The windows were broken out. The front door boarded up.

Bob and his buddy got out and walked around but they saw nothing. Disappointment fell over his face as he was so sure that Millie wasn’t really missing; she was just lost. She wasn’t crazy or a wild cat. The poor woman had Alzheimer’s.

He had read plenty about it and had heard too many stories. This stuff hit people his and Millie’s age. He just knew this was what had happened. Kicking his feet in the dirt, delaying leaving, the two sat on the front steps of the old school.

It was starting to get hot so they stood up to go. Something just kept picking at him. He told his buddy that he wanted to just walk around the building. He wanted to see what the old building looked like.

The two started their journey. They got on the back side of the school and their on the back steps sat Millie. She didn’t see them. His buddy stayed back and Bob quietly walked up to her.

He saw that she was sleeping. He leaned down and patted her on the shoulder. She looked up and tears started streaming down her face. She stood up and gave him the biggest hug he had ever had.

” I’m scared Bob. I don’t know how I got here. I was looking for the park bench you and I sit at.” She pulled out her filled plastic bag of bird food and showed it to him. He put his arm around her and told her, ” Everything is going to be ok Millie. My friend and I will take you home.”

All three walked back to the car in silence. Bob helped Millie sit in the front seat. Climbing in the back seat they took off back to town. They went through the doors of the police station.

Suddenly a loud voice could be heard. ” Mom, oh mom, you are safe. Mom I was worried sick.” Her son came up and hugged her, looking at the two gentlemen standing with her.

” It’s ok sir. She and I, well we feed the birds every week together. We talk a lot about nothing. Then when I was walking home I saw her picture on the front of the newspaper. I thought real hard about what had happened. I just knew inside she was alright. I knew no harm had come to her. I wanted to help find her.”

Her son took both of Bob’s hands in his and shook them until he thought they were going to break off. He took his wallet out of his back pocket and started handing Bob some money. Bob held his hand out to stop the man. ” Don’t want your money.”

Her son put his wallet back and gave him a quick hug. Walking back to his Mom he led her into the police officer’s office.

Bob was so relieved but he was going to miss Millie. He just knew that he would never see her again. He didn’t go back to the park bench for a couple of weeks. But his bag kept filling up and he had no choice but to go or throw a way good bird food.

He put his shoes on and started his journey to the park. There on the park bench was a woman. Not Millie, but another woman, about her age, but with different hair and a crooked smile. He looked down at her and she looked up at him.


Open Hearts

On my Face Book page I am friends with a gentleman on a poetry page. I have been following him and his thoughts for some time. He was married for over 50 years and lost his beloved wife to Alzheimer’s Disease.

I got permission from Stanton to share his poem with all of you.

We all have lost someone in our lives and if you have not experienced this, you are so lucky. My heart could relate to so many things he was writing about as far as Al goes. Here it is. I hope you enjoy or feel the open heart.



One Lonely House and One Lonely Man

Come walk around this lonely house with me…

I have nothing here to sell you.

Just some things that I would tell you…

Of a lonely house that June once made a home.

Before the day…that Alzheimer’s took June away.

A Wednesday  in March was the day…

that June went away.

Over there sits our old chairs.

Where June would often sit with me…

And softly say: “I love you Stan!

June is now gone from our home forever …

And this lonely house will never again be a home…

Without June and the Love that we once knew…

Just one lonely house with one lonely man…

and the long lonely nights.

Straight ahead…There’s our bed.

Where we lay, loved and talked together.

See June’s picture on the table…

Doesn’t June look like she’d be able…

to touch me and say…good morning Stan!

In those days when June made this house a home…

Now…Just one lonely house and one lonely man…

and the long lonely nights.

Come walk around this house with me…

one lonely house with one lonely man…

There’s June’s rings and all her things…

June’s clothes are all still in the closets.

The refrigerator door with all of …

…June’s notes, photos , and knacks…

Just as June left them on that day…

that June went away…

That Day my world was torn apart.

that lonely day that broke my heart…

a Wednesday in March was the day.

That Alzheimer’s took June away.

Come walk around this house with me…

I have nothing here to sell you…

Just some things that I would tell you!

Of one lonely house and one lonely man…

and the long lonely nights.

June and Stan 15 March 2005

A Love Letter To Daddy

Dear Daddy,

It has taken me so long to get up the strength to write you this letter. Today, is Father’s Day and while many are celebrating I was not. Instead I spent the afternoon with your son, my brother at the nursing home.

He isn’t doing well Daddy. He is wanting to die and he wants to do it at home. I hope you understand why I placed him for these past few months. I just felt I couldn’t give him all he needed. I felt like he needed more than just my help. I do hope you understand.

I have missed you so much. It is so hard to believe that you have been gone six years this December. Where has the time gone? I guess when I look back I mourned for years. I think if I admit it I am still mourning for you today.

Right after you had your burial, Al had a heart attack. The doctors said that he had so much trouble expressing himself, his heart just couldn’t take what had happened. Ever since then Daddy I have been taking care of him. I promised you I would and I haven’t let you down.

I have been alright I guess. I have never been able to fill  the void of you being gone, but I survive. I think of you at least once every day. I always tell myself that you watch over me. I can see you and Mom holding hands and looking down on Al and me.

Are you smiling? I know I disappointed you in so many ways and I am sorry, but I hope you are proud of me now. I have worked real hard at being the good girl you could smile down upon.

I bought a sketch pad today and some charcoal and sketch pencils. You remember Daddy? How you and I used to draw together? I am going to give it a shot without you. Every sketch I make will be done through my love for you.

Al is coming home this week and he says he is wanting to see you and Mom real bad. He says he misses you both and Granddad too. He told me Mom has said she is saving a spot for him, will you save a spot for me too?

You know that once Al is gone it will be me left from the family. Hold a spot close up there in heaven. I don’t want to be separated from the family ever again.

I miss you so much and I love you as much today as when I held you in my arms while you drifted off to heaven. I didn’t get to tell you enough how much I love you. I am hoping that while your spirit was rising that early morning that you heard me whispering in your ear that I love you and you were the best Daddy a girl could have.

Well, I better close for now before I start crying again. Give Mom a hug and a kiss for me and I shall see you both soon.

Your little girl,

Terrydad, bev, me and theda

God, Are You Opening a Door For Me?

Parkinson's disease patient showing a flexed w...

Parkinson’s disease patient showing a flexed walking posture pictured in 1892.

There is a huge part inside of me that is screaming and jumping up and down. I am filled with excitement and thanking God for helping me to maybe make a dream come true.

To let caregivers and families know more about Parkinson’s Disease. To have the chance of helping others to not have to travel this long and painful journey to go it alone is a dream I have prayed about for months.

Today I received a comment from Melanie Winrow. Melanie and I met each other several months ago here at WP. She is a wonderful and positive person filled with talent. You may visit her website at;


I was so excited to know that God may be  opening a door for Al, others and myself, I just had to share with my precious friends. Below is her comment to me. You may also be able to see it in the comment section of my latest chapter from Al’s Life Journey, Chapter 6.

Terry, I’m starting my own radio show next week (guaranteed
4000 listeners).  Would you like to be a guest to talk about your
book?  I still keep all your writing (a grand total of 355 posts since I
first heard about you) and I can tell you that you have talent.

Over the coming months I will be doing a
number of charity shows (radiothons) to raise money for both Alzheimer’s
(first) and Parkinsons (in a few weeks time).  If you’d like to get
involved with any of that, you’d be welcome (I know you have enough on
your plate.  Importantly, is there anything Al/you need that we can buy
if we can raise the money?  If so, I’d be happy to do so (for example, a
hospital where a friend lived lacked, of all things, an MRI scanner.
For lack of that, she was sent to Portsmouth as the nearest place – and
died en route.  We would have raised the money for a scanner if we’d
known.  It doesn’t have to be anything that big – anything at all that
would make your life (or the lives of other sufferers easier.

I am thinking of you and Al.
Take care
All my love

Who’s Following Me?

“Where am I”? Darla reached up and grabbed a hold of the man’s shirt. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?” Darla was laying on a portable bed. She was getting ready to be rolled out the waiting EMS.

Darla lived in the home that she and her husband had made. She had made many friends. She partook in many activities. She played bingo, went on car rides, visited friends in nursing homes. She made crafts and sent out cards to grandchildren.

For the last few months visible changes had started to produce. Darla would forget to take her medications.Sometimes she even forgot to eat. Family started to notice a weight loss. The kids started to visit more at meal times, sometimes bringing treats.

Darla came from a big family. She had nine brothers and sisters. She and her husband had six children. Ed, her partner in life  worked in one of the many tomato fields. Darla was a teacher. Their children were brought up with strict rules. The love flowed like streams throughout the home. Their children were raised without many issues.

When Darla and Ed retired their children hosted a wonderful party for them. Darla bought a new violet-blue dress and Ed wore his familiar black suit. So many friends came that the house was weak at the seams. From speaking to Darla, I believe that this was the third biggest memory of her life. The first highlight was her marriage. Second came the children and now this.

These two did everything together after retirement. They worked on crossword puzzles, watched the same television programs. He helped while she prepared their meals. They went to church together and every Sunday they were invited to one of the kid’s house for dinner.

Life was great. Ed and Darla could want for nothing more. At each meal they gave thanks for their many blessings they had received over the years. Every Wednesday Ed paid visits to the local Senior Center while Darla went to the church for her euchre games.

While sitting at the card table she felt a strange feeling running down her arm. She became dizzy and light-headed. The color drained from her face. One of her friends took notice and let the director know. With the call to the EMS, Darla was rushed to the ER. She had suffered a stroke. It devastated the kids and her husband. Ed only left her side when it was time to retire for bed.

The routine of visits, therapy and well wishes turned into six months. Eventually she was able to walk again with the aid of a cane. She returned to their home, and with the help of her husband they enjoyed life for another year.

One chilly morning Darla rose from her bed. She went to the bathroom and then back to see if Ed was up yet. He was not, so she called out to him. The only return she received was silence. She walked to the other side of the bed where he laid so peacefully and saw his lips were a deep blue.

She went to the phone and called the paramedics and the sad news was that he had passed peacefully through the night. Darla mourned along with her children. Three months later she was still mourning and was losing touch with reality. Upon examination she was pronounced with depression and the loss of will to live.

Her body became weak in fighting illness. It was not long after that, Alzheimer’s paid her a visit. It appeared with no invitation and usually over stayed its welcome. As the doctor and the children gathered more evidence, a caregiver was hired.

The caregiver assisted with bathing, meals and medications. Darla had many good days, but the balance became equal with bad days mixing in. It was a routine Monday morning when the caregiver arrived. She was beginning the preparation for the breakfast meal.

Darla walked out to the kitchen and when she took notice of the caregiver she immediately walked over to her and started yelling. “Get out of here! Get out of my kitchen! I am going to call the police! You are breaking into my house”.

The caregiver was taken aback for a moment and then called the eldest child explaining the situation at hand. It was clear as ice that mom’s mind was being taken over by the disease.

The kids and the caregiver had a family meeting. They took a vote on getting mom in a nursing facility if this behavior happened again. Weeks went by and no more episodes or outbursts happened. As the sun lowers and the moon rises it happened again.

Darla didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know her name. It was the worst episode so far. A phone call was made. The children were present. The EMS was there. A room had been provided in a skilled facility and Darla was being taken there at this very moment.

A life full of memories. Big families, years full of love. A constant companion by her side. All buried in her mind. Only specks of reality surfaced now and then. With tears in her son’s eyes, he answered his mom. ” I love you mom. With the help of these two men we are going to take you to a new place. It’s going to be alright. I will be right by your side. Please don’t cry mom, you’re making me cry”.

“Where am I? Where are we going? Where are you taking  me”?……..

Behind the Sun




The Rain, I Received This In An Email, And I Couldn’t Help But Shed A Tear

The Rain


It was a busy morning, about 8:30,

when an elderly gentleman in his 80’s arrived

to have stitches removed from his thumb.

He said he was in a hurry as he

had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat,

knowing it would be over an hour before

someone would to able to see him.

I saw him looking at his watch and

decided, since I  was not busy with

another patient, I would evaluate

his wound. On exam, it was
well healed, so I talked to one of the

doctors, got the needed supplies to
remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he

had another doctor’s appointment this morning,

as he was in such a hurry.
The gentleman told me no, that he needed

to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast

with his wife. I enquired as to her health.
He told me that she had been there for a while

and that she was a victim of Alzheimer’s Disease.
As we talked, I asked if she would be

upset if he was a bit late.
He replied that she no longer knew who he was,

that she had not recognized him in
five years now.


I was surprised, and asked him, ‘And you still

go every morning, even though she

doesn’t know who you are?’
He smiled as he patted my hand and said,
She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.’

I had to hold back tears as he left, I had

goose bumps on my arm, and thought,
 ‘That is the kind of love I want in my life.’
True love is neither physical, nor romantic.

True love is an acceptance of all that is,

has been, will be, and will not be.