Epilogue
In the course of preparing the website you have now completed reading to allow its availability as a paper pamphlet or booklet, an “interesting” situation occurred (I refer the Reader to the part of the book which compares “interesting” with “stark terror”), which perhaps best illustrates the final point I was making at the ending of the book, and perhaps throughout it.

I hesitated and wondered if it would be appropriate, and I’m not yet  sure if I will  reproduce this in the website itself as a future revision.  Upon reading this, you may understand why.

I had an episode, again, in which I experienced the utter dread of the oncoming perceived horror of Alzheimer’s Disease.  Without getting into too many details, I found yesterday that I was having difficulties doing basic activities and chores.  As an example, I realized my wallet had been missing for maybe three days (I do not use it often unless purchasing something outside of the house - all else is online).  At about the same time, my hearing aids seemed to be failing, and I could not find my extra set.  That meant I was faced with a period of not being able to talk to other people effectively until the situation could be remedied, not easy in a place like Santa Fe, as repairs and new aids are not available immediately.  Money can be replaced at some point, but losing a wallet is a big deal.

So Liz and I searched and searched in all the various places for the wallet and for the repair kit and extra parts for both sets of hearing aids.   The result was no wallet, and no way to effectively fix the aids, and hear once more.  We checked with the last location outside the house I had been for the wallet, nothing was found,  and I prepared to cancel all my credit and debit cards, and then found the local hearing aid provider would be closed for the next two days, so there we both were, in a dark funk.

Panic and dread began to set in, I became morose and uncommunicative, Liz started worrying about me, and I went into a depressive state, and started thinking that perhaps this was the final sign that I should man up and end it all and avoid the massive suffering that was about to take place over the next week or two or so, and that God had finally spoken in the firm way He/She has, and said that it was time to go.

I realized I would not be a hero or a villain, simply someone who was not around in the future to disturb the universe, and that would be a good enough reason.  The Reader should realize that I had zero sense of humor about it, was absolutely serious and totally embarrassed, and finally went to bed wondering to best way to take my exit as soon as possible.

As usual, the 3 or 4 a.m. time came, I awoke, and my brain went into high gear while I lay in bed.   I came up with the perfect exit strategy, and thought it best to wait until dawn so there would be enough light.  In the meantime, my active brain started thinking of alternatives to the wallet and hearing aid issues, none came up, but I thought at least one more try in the morning prior to my demise might be in order.  I was in a seriously dreadful and morbid mood, one which Liz hates to be around, as she gets sucked into my drama and I can readily eject myself, but she has not yet been able to do that.   So I had actually ended up screwing up two lives, not just one.  I thought I best to stop with two, and not further inflict my dreary existence on others as time passed.

So, dawn broke, I started working on my hearing aids, found some of the parts I did not think I had in a place I did not expected, Liz actually found my wallet where I always put it, but somehow I had not found it there earlier, and we devised a plan that will seemingly solve all the problems.  As of this writing, this is all in the past.  It has taken three days for the whole drama to play out.

Now, I will not point out the obvious lesson to be learned.  I write this as humor after the fact, but the memory of the blackness of that night will never leave me, nor will it Liz.

The Reader may draw his or her own conclusions, and for me I feel like Scrooge the day after the visitations.  In addition, I sat down this morning and figured out how to make the software work so that I can produce the printed version of the website for those who do not use desktop computers nor smart phones (there are many out there), something which to date had eluded me.

I can only hope and pray that Liz will forgive me, and that I also forgive myself.

You are now encouraged to draw your own lessons from this episode.   It will likely have the words “journey” and “peace” in the lesson somewhere.

                                                                                                               El Loco

 

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