The Thief
The thief came again. I can always tell. He crept in undetected and took his plunder from the storehouse. He has gotten bolder. It used to be how to make coffee or use the TV remote. He is no longer content with the inconsequential. He wants things that are more precious now.
He took the memory of a first kiss, a very special kiss, given to a grandbaby moments after birth. It was the very first kiss in this world. The thief whisked away that precious, irreplaceable memory with no regret or remorse.
Oh what a cruel thief he is. Sometimes he leaves a trace of a memory behind and other times he wipes every hint away. His thirst is insatiable. He will not be satisfied until he strips the memory storehouse bare.
I know his name. It is Alzheimer’s. I cannot stop him as he pillages and robs those he meets. One day he will be stopped and eliminated. However, until then I must be vigilant, always striving to add to the storehouse while reinforcing the door.