Caught a glimpse

“You are searching again! What is it? Is it important? Where did you keep it? O-M-G, I have told him not to remove the sticky notes from the walls a million times,” BinduMa fretted.

From the bedroom, came a response.

“Huh, what notes?”

“Jeez, the sticky notes,” BinduMa(short for Bindu Mommy) said.

“The what? Didn't hear you,” he replied.

Lazily opening my eyes to the sun rays glazing through the window,

I did not want to get up this early, so went back to that short dreamy morning nap but stirred up to the utensils sound from the kitchen, the usual wake-up calls.

It has been a struggle to live up to the day. It's been three years now that we have not sensed harmony in this home. Not a single day goes by without worrying about his life, safety, health, his medicines, and his work. How will he manage? Who will take care of him when no one is around?

“Where the hell is it? I can’t find it,” he called out at the top of his voice.

He was so bad in his search that he never even saw if it was right in front of him. BinduMa used to play pranks at times and laugh at him. She knows he hates it, yet she plays around. He would gaze at her with a note that said, ‘not playful’ and would be angry for a few minutes, and then cool off. She would then walk off with a cheesy smile, but sometimes it turns into a fight and gets carried on for a while. It is so fun to watch the warm smiles and mischievousness around, but not much with the silence, though.

“Where are you?” he yelled.

She knew his usual spots and started searching.

All of a sudden, he screeched, “What are you doing? Why can’t you... “

“What?” She interrupted,

“Help me find it?...”, he continued,

She got agitated and shouted back at him,

“You know what, I did and was not able to find it.”

With a sarcastic gesture, she responded, “I am so sorry, dear, you are on your own now, whatever you were searching for, you are too good at finding things, and I am always the opposite, right?”

She walked off bitterly and came to the balcony, murmuring,

"bla...bla....bla...ya...ya... Let me have my coffee first.”

Finally, sipping her so-called hot-brewed black coffee that had been lying here for a while, she could not contain her anger and tears, but allowed it to roll. She has not had the chance to attend any of her morning rituals due to the egg hunt event happening in the house. This space is not a bungalow to go missing for long, but enough space to move around with two to three people.

More and more coffees brewed, and silence altogether, only to hear coffee bubbles bursting through the liquid. It is like we survive on coffee more than food. She stared at the process allowing herself to blend in, let out a sign, and then continued, looking away.

Finally, breaking the silence,

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Taking her third gulp of coffee, BinduMa started,

“You know, during the start of our married life, the beginnings of building our bond, nothing seemed to be taken seriously, we would have small fights, enjoy the travels, play around, be an all-time romantic couple, I love you; I love you too all the time. Two years into marriage, our lives slowly composed into a union. It doesn't mean we didn't have our differences. We very well did and do have our unusual ways of showing a balance with arrogance. Just Kidding.

We grew and built a life with experience and patience. I started to understand what it means to be with each other, to mature through interdependence, and to live a life for each other. We knew what our interests were, how and when we would get angry, how comfortable we were, and we were 95% sure of our actions and reactions. Ultimately, we became comfortable in each other's hands.

But(there is always a but). I would trip at his expense for being insensitive in the name of making fun of my forgetfulness. I would get so annoyed, especially when he points out in front of everyone, which often made me wonder if it was really my shortcomings or his ignorance. To shut my overthinking brain, I sometimes gathered the courage to confront him, in the hope that he would listen heartily and would tell me things I wished to hear. I was always asked to spot the joke, to grow out of my concerns, to place things at ease.

How can I forget his famous tagline, "You won’t remember, for sure you will forget it? You can’t remember anything."

Despised it to the core and took things seriously, and our days would end with arguments. The aftermath was that neither of us would rest our case or restrain ourselves from our bouts. I used to cry for hours imagining all kinds of grim happenings and act them out or vent them out by playing a drama in my own space when he was not around. Lots of self-talk and I feared for my forgetfulness and started reasoning, doubting myself for why my brain is not remembering things. Mental stress crazily crawled on me. I got so panicky that I visited a neurologist, who suggested an MRI scan. I really regret this attempt of mine. I never planned to go back after the first visit, as I was scared to death and did not want to hear anything distressing.

Home remedies were my next stop. I started my trials on herbal drinks, some medicines to boost my memory. I did some research and got stuck in the world of Alzheimer's. Once it got into my head, I was 101% sure that I would suffer from Alzheimer's, and he would have a hell of a struggle. I could not sleep or concentrate on my work. I just couldn’t be better. I was always in the urge to test my memory. I could not remember the movie name that we watched the day before, did not remember the timeline of our travels, and it felt hard to recall anything. I started losing myself to the extent that it bothered me, and I started to prepare notes about everything. He could sense something was wrong, but I did not want him to get worried or alarmed. I was so concerned that, if by chance, I shared what I felt, then the whole thing would turn out to be gloomy. So I kept him at bay.

Life continued. We grew into what we are today, and this is all that you see.

I remember, it happened around our anniversary time, our twenty-third,

No, no...twenty-fifth. We had both our parents at that time, a family get-together month for us. Everything happened out of the blue, totally unexpected, inconceivable. Oh man, it turned out to be hell, totally messy.

September 2018, at the dinner table, that staggering moment. Never can I forget that look of his, he could not remember where he was, what he spoke, a sense of loss altogether, confusion. After a few minutes, then came a loud cry. We immediately took him to the emergency room and waited. No one slept that night. The longest ever wait in my life. The time froze for us. The very next day, we called up our family doctor. After a few medical proceedings, our family doctor called us to his home, my heart racing to hear he was alright, nothing to worry about.

Instead, heard that he was in the early stage of mild cognitive impairment, an early stage of memory loss.

As soon as he heard, he looked at me and said,

"Don’t you worry, I'm first, but not like you. Here, the case is that I'm so skillful and brilliant that my brain is not able to access the storage box, it has planned to take some vacation, simple."

The instances flashed. I remembered how he forgot his car keys, his bag, his habitual tasks, and the initial signs to look for, but never took it seriously. My bad. I was in complete shock for days, couldn't digest the news, couldn't accept it. I cried and questioned the path ordained. Why wasn't I chosen?

With our day-to-day treatments and challenges, life seemed hectic and strenuous. But we couldn't continue to live like this, so we made some changes by first accepting the fact that the situation was what it was and moving ahead by facing the moments that were thrown at us.

Administered some tricks and tips that I had previously noted for my own sake. We slowly picked up on our lost laughter. The silly conversations through sticky notes that are stuck to the fridge, the hall, the bedroom, and yes, the bathroom as well, no place left empty, funny it is!

Sticky notes made a difference in our home. He for sure enjoys it, and nothing else matters. It was in these times that he got you into our lives, a change in our changing lives.

Nah, don’t give me that look, I agree, some days are terrible, just like today, the whole day moves without making sense of where we started. It just aches to see him like this.”

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And

I barked, bow-wow, bow-wow.

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BinduMa turned and saw him.

Startled, she asked, “What is it?”

He whispered, “Can you please help me find it? I searched everywhere.”

With a rewarding smile, she placed her hands on his shoulder and strolled into the bedroom. I followed and stood eagerly at the door to know what the search was all about because something seemed fishy in here.

She looked around, searched a few drawers, moved a few things, and the finale, the curtains raised to the top, she lifted the mattress.

A chain with a love locket etched with their photo.

With laughter, he whispered, "Happy anniversary, love you."

She hugged and kissed, and there came a knock. I looked up to see my buddy. He brushed my hair and walked back with a brimful murmur,

“Get a room, guys!”

And, here she goes, gazing at me, “ooh-la-la, dealing with this one, Oscar, another life story it is.”

Promising to witness many more, I walked back to the balcony and left them to their moments.

Cheers to the non-welcoming, unexpected turns of life.

Looking at the sky, dozed off with a glimpse that with every passing day, life is getting harder and harder.

Yet, some soothing moments and laughter to savor.