Terry and his Wife's Story About Alzheimer's Disease

Two weeks later, John parks their minivan in his mother’s narrow driveway, leaving room for the gas company truck to pull in behind. A hot Santa Ana wind off the Mojave Desert whips the palm trees. The neighborhood is teeming with kids, running through sprinklers or splashing in portable swimming pools. Emma sits on her front porch with a plate of brownies and a large pitcher of lemonade. Children come and go, trounce through her flowerbeds with chocolate smeared across their faces.

“You sure taking her away from this is the right thing?” Bonnie asks. “Ya know, she’s the ‘neighborhood Grandmom’ and everybody’s been looking out for her.”
“No, I’m not sure at all,” John says.
“Well, with our house full of teenagers, we can’t possibly take her in, but maybe…”
“Let’s just get on with it,” he snaps.
“Hi Mom, its us, John and Bonnie.” He waves to Emma. She smiles at them from a white rattan chair and adjusts her huge straw sun hat.
“Do you remember why we’re here?” John asks as Bonnie bends to hug her.
“No, not exactly. But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”
“The gas company is coming to shut off the service and inspect the lines to make sure they’re safe.”
“Oh, is there a problem?”
“No, no, nothing to worry about,” Bonnie says. “But you’re going on a little vacation while the men work on the lines. Remember?”
“No, you never told me that,” Emma says and frowns.
“It’ll be fun, Ma. Just for a few days until the work’s done.”
“I don’t want to leave my house with all my…”
“You have to! It’s not safe until they inspect the gas lines, and…”
“Can I have some lemonade? It looks delicious,” Bonnie butts in.
“Sure, dear, help yourself before these wild kids drink it all.”
Bonnie fills herself a cup and one for John. “Why don’t we go inside and wait.”
“Good idea,” John mutters.

The house is hot and stifling. He moves through the rooms and opens windows. The kitchen is full of dirty dishes and the stench from food left out on the counters to spoil. He rejoins the women in the living room.
Bonnie takes Emma’s hand. “Why don’t we go and pack some things for your vacation.”
“Pack? Where am I going?”
“You remember, a little vacation. We have friends who own a big house on a hill with lots of oak trees. You’ll stay there until it’s safe to come back.”
“Why isn’t it safe?”
“The gas lines, Ma. Remember, the gas lines.”
“Oh yes. Shouldn’t we call the gas company about that?”
“They’re coming, Ma. They’re coming.”

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