Notes from a Nursery called Alzheimer’s

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A little while back I had a vividly clear vision of doctors splicing open my left breast. This image stayed with me, and followed me for years to come; until, twenty three years later I found myself on an operating table, getting ready for surgery to remove a cancerous lump out of my left breast.
 
            A little while back a different vision began to haunt me, this time, I am walking around a long corridor an expecting mother, she doesn’t seem to be bale to give birth, and I am trying, patiently, to calm her down and get her ready. Another time, I am the midwife, greeting a new born child into the world. 
 
            Today I had a conversation with my mother, which lead me to stop and think, that it is a well known fact that there are no such things are birth or death, but instead, there are mere passages from one plane to the next. The goal for some individuals is to facilitate this transition, as a midwife helps receive a new born child. The process of birth is very cut and clear- ones those contractions start to come, there is no looking back- you are having this kid! What some may mistakenly perceive as death, an error made simply by the boundaries of our consciousness and where human languages fall short, is a mere process of birth, but backwards. All we can do in this instance is to help the individual be reborn and ensure a safe journey back home… To be born is to be give birth by the birth giver. And, in their own being, birth givers teach us plenty. Through this process we ourselves are reborn with them, and for this lesson we must bow down with respect for this lesson.
 
            I came to visit my mother at the nursing home. She was in the armchair in the common room of the facility, sleeping. I didn’t wake her, but instead, I sat down next to her. However, after a minute, decided to wake her up. She looked at me with an almost detached gaze. But in her eyes I did not see sickness. Instead, there was something else, something that is difficult to explain. In her eyes I saw peace.
 
“Oh, I was just there!” – Were the first words to be spoken by her.
 
“There? Where?”- I asked.
 
“You know, there! On the other side!”- Mother replied, without any worry or sadness.
 
“And how is it over there, on the other side? Wonderful?”
 
“It differs. You should answer a better question- am I already dead?”
 
“No, not yet. But it will happen eventually.”
 
“Yes, yes of course. Because, you see, I am already not here…”
 
            Then we gave a call to mom’s eldest sister. She spoke about cottage cheese and sandwiches. Mother said, “This… This isn’t it at all, not at all…”
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