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my narrative essay

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my narrative essay

Thirty years ago, every lunch hour, I used to pass through my neighbor’s compound as I went to and from school. This is a norm in the village where you pass through someone’s home if it is (or it appears) shorter than the designated road.

There was this lady who would be sitting outside on the grass, each day like clockwork. Let’s call her Nancy. She had long, unkempt hair that resembled a thick forest. It was always untidy. My mom, who was a teacher, would never pass by without saying hello to Nancy. But never once did Nancy acknowledge my mom’s greetings. She didn’t even lift up her head. She never once smiled, laughed, or frowned. It was always the same absent-minded Nancy in a world of her own.

As I grew older, I came to learn than the two girls I was in class in were actually Nancy’s daughters. Two normal girls who, unfortunately, didn’t have a normal mom. I often wondered how and if they talked with their mom like I did with mine.

In my adulthood, my mom explained to me that Nancy had issues with her brain. Today I know Nancy had dementia. In my opinion, that’s the most horrific disease to have. Imagine having kids, a spouse, siblings, friends (if any will be left), and you cannot communicate with them. Not because you are bedridden and deathly but simply because you forgot what to say. You even forgot who your once dear people are and what they mean. Maybe you also think they are cows or some other animal.

I hate what dementia does to the human mind to turn a once healthy person into a cabbage. Every time I get memory lapses, I ask God to protect me from dementia. I don’t want to one day stare at my kids and ask them who they are. I don’t want to laugh at insider jokes that only I understand.

The actual cause of dementia is not known, but there are things you can do to avoid it. You can exercise your body and mind, avoid excessive alcohol, among others. To learn more about that, check out this article here

Thank you, Quorans.

 

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