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I'm worried about my dad. His memory has been on the fritz for a few years now, and that's been all right. It's just meant that we need to remind him of things and write everything down. No real biggie. Today, I had a thought that scared me. What will happen if his memory gets even worse? If one day he doesn't recognize me as his son? Or if he forgets his own name? That really really frightens me. Especially if we ever have to put him in a care facility. I hate those places so much. When Grandmother was sick and was recuperating in one of those, I hated visiting her. Those places smell like death and leech hope from my bones. They scare me beyond belief.

On a brighter note, I was struck with inspiration today. I've not done anything with it, yet, but I hope to soon.

Slainte

John-Boy