Arrow To Bullseye

I'm chopping onions for  Christmas lunch Nut Roast. The wind is hurling rain against the patio doors. My husband is sitting at the kitchen table wrapping up presents for nephews and nieces and all the little people in our families. I explain who each one is. He asks for their names and how to spell them. He asks again seconds later. He throws the pen down and crumples.

I can't remember their bloody names....

and the anguish in him flies out across the table to me, slices me right in half...I go to him....hold his head against me. But we both know the truth of this now. For him and for me. If you don't know who your family are what tethers you here? How do you know who you are?

 While it was  a creeping thing - this disease -  I could contain it somehow.....but it arrived this morning, naked, un-disguised - arrow to  bullseye - tearing out the guts of us in the midst of the teddy bear Christmas wrapping paper......