Emma Case

What I Fail to Remember Story

The worst part about having your brain deteriorate is that you can’t remember it is
deteriorating. I know there are things I can’t remember, but I can’t remember what it is I am
forgetting. It is like losing your key before you realize you lost it. You don’t have it, but you don’t
realize it is missing. I know pieces of me are missing.
Propping myself up against the sink, I look at myself in the mirror. Even my body is
deteriorating. I used to be young and free. Now I look ancient and am locked in a nursing home
with a code I can never remember as the only thing standing in my way. A code. A four digit
code. 4 numbers keeping me from the outside world, trapped away like some animal in the zoo
that visitors get to come and gawk at.
“Mr. Krol, sit down! You are going to hurt yourself,” Cindy yells from the doorway,
startling my balance.
“I will if you keep sneaking up on me like that. Get louder shoes, dear,” I laugh. I may not
have my memory, but my old age has yet to affect my incredible humor.
“Sorry, sir. Now please sit down. You need to take your medicine.” I comply and sit on
the edge of my bed. Cindy is one of the good nurses. She actually cares for the old timers here.
The rest just clock in their hours and go waste away at clubs. Why is youth so often wasted on
the young? If I had half the abilities they did, I wouldn’t be wasting it with alcohol and clubbing. I
would go climb Everest, become president, or at least something that doesn’t leave me with a
hangover the next day.
Cindy walks over with a medicine cup mixed with applesauce. “Okay, Mr. Krol, eat up.”
“I hate applesauce, Cindy. Mix it with yogurt,” I beg.
Cindy pushes it into my hand. “Oh, please. Just give it a try. For me.”
I take the cup. “Fine, but only because you are so sweet to me.” I take a spoonful of
medicine and am pleasantly surprised.
“Wow! This was fantastic. I love it.”
“You always do,” Cindy mumbles sadly. Just another reminder of how my brain has
failed me yet again.
“What’s on my schedule for today, my dear?”
“Well, today is Monday, so you had an omelet for breakfast, community time through
lunch. There is pork sausage for lunch, and then there will be bingo after dinner. And I think
Danny mentioned visiting.”
I know I should remember. “Danny?”
 “Danny is your brother. And he is coming with Luke, your son.” I kind of remember now.
Danny and I hated each other for most of our lives, but the last 15 years we have been really
close. Old age brings people together. It is something about the impending death that makes
you realize the silliness of sibling rivalry. Luke is almost 30 now. He became close with Danny
once I was put in here last year.
…..
I am finishing up my pork sausage when Luna comes in. She is the head nurse, and
quite a cranky one at that.
“Finish up, Ben. Your visitors are here.”
“Alright, alright.” I barely put my fork on the plate before she takes it away. So much for 3
square meals a day. As she walks out of the room, her sneakers squeaking at every step,
Danny and Luke appear in the doorway.
“Hey, Ben. How are you feeling?” Danny asks nicely.
“I'm here for being old, Danny. Not cancer.” I chuckle.
“I’m just trying to be nice, you old fart.” Danny laughs. Danny and Luke sit down on the
edge of the bed, across from me in my reclining chair.
“So, Luke, how is Rachel?” I ask.
Luke pauses before answering. “Oh, uh. She is good I think. We haven’t spoken in a
while. She brought the kids over last week for my birthday, so I guess she is doing well.”
“Your birthday! Oh I almost forgot, I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Luke! What is it now, 30?
That is quite a big year.”
Another pause. “I’m 36 now, dad. But thank you, I appreciate it.”
Quickly trying to change the conversation, Danny shifts in his seat. “So, what do they
have you doing around here?”
“Nothing really. There is bingo later tonight”
…..
I lay in my bed, the room dark with only light from the night sky shining through the
window. I hear a knock at the door. A nurse silently walks in.
“Night meds, Mr. Krol.” She walks in with a tray.
“Hello, dear. Thank you. Are you new?” Before she responds, she pushes forward an
applesauce.
“Oh, I usually get mine in yogurt.”
“Let’s give it a try, just this once.” She says with a smile. I lift the spoon to my mouth and
am not disgusted at first bite.
 “Oh, I like this. Thank you, hun.” She grabs the cup from my shaking hand and walks
out.
As she walks out the door, I hear a slight mumble. “You always do.”
I lie back in bed, pulling the covers over my body. My mind is working at 110 power, yet
only 10 percent capacity, and fading fast. Sleep. Sleep will help. I close my eyes, trying to
remember everything I can before I go to bed. My name is Ben…. Ben.. Ben what? I am 87
years old and am sleeping in my bed. I had pork sausage for lunch. My name is B… B. As I
struggle to remember, my mind drifts into rest. Little did I know, it would be my final rest as my
mind and body have given all they could. As I drift into the last sleep, just before I pass on, I
remember everything. I am 89 years old, sleeping in a nursing home, and my name is Ben Krol.
My name was Ben Krol.