Into the abyss of Alzheimer's.

For the first time. I was losing control of the situation. While walking my Alzheimer-riddled friend Ron.  We’ve strolled together many, many times.  Ron, for the most part, has been convivial. Cooperative. Under control. But yesterday, Ron went  berserk.  No longer considering me a friend. In a flash. I became his mortal enemy. Attempts to calm Ron were rebuffed. No predicting what would happen next. Ron veered off our usual route. And down the middle of a busy county road.  Into the face of oncoming traffic. I tugged at the sleeve of Ron's jacket. More hostility. Ron crouched in a fighting stance. Don't panic, I kept telling myself. I had  to think. Think fast. Finally waving down a van. To the rescue. Came Matt Murphy. With his wife Melissa and three young children. ‘Can you help?’ I pleaded . ‘I’ve lost control of a man with Alzheimer’s.'  Ron sprinted away.  Matt Murphy and I finally corralled  Ron. Ushered  him slowly and  perilously. Into the backseat of the van. For the ride home. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thanked the Murphys. Profusely.  But still, it wasn't over.  Ron refused to leave the van. Becoming combative again. Everything witnessed. By the Murphy children. No doubt, leaving an indelible impression. On young minds.  Of an old man’s decline. Into the dreadful abyss of Alzheimer's. Something to remember. For the rest of their lives. I'll remember, too. But Ron has already forgotten. Haven’t decided yet. Whether that’s a curse or a blessing. –Jim Broede