Dear Alzheimer's,

You don’t know me, but I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of being acquainted with you for too many years. You’ve stolen more from me than can be replaced, priceless things. You started to steal from me when I was 14, when my Pop Pop started to forget. It was little things at first. Keys on the counter, dentist appointments – the stuff that didn’t matter yet. But as I got older and he did too, you started to pull at his strings. He unraveled before me as I watched the light leave his eyes. He used to give me a noogie on the head every time he walked in the door and kiss it after to make it all better. You stole that and I would like that back. I would also like back when you took his laugh. His whistling, wheezing laugh, always followed by a goofy animal noise. I miss that. I want that returned to me if it isn’t too much trouble.

You stole his warmth, his humor, and his love from me; but worst of all, you took his entire spirit from him. I would watch him sit in his old armchair moving his mouth and wandering his glassy eyes, trying to emote, trying to feel. And it made my heart hurt so much that I thought my bones were going to collapse around it. I wanted his memories back – if not for me – for him. I wanted him to remember the way he yelled “My Lee Lee!” when I would run and hug him. I want you to know I hate when anyone else calls me that anymore. You stole that memory. Just like you stole the ones of him always showing up to every dance recital, play, basketball game, or anything else I embarrassed myself in. I want him to remember me falling flat on my face in a tutu and him cheering to get back up. And one of the worst things you stole from me was a little piece of my own father, because you just had to take his. You made me watch my dad cry and I hate you for that, I really do. You stole the spirit of a grandfather, a father, a brother, son, veteran, and friend. But he was so much more than all those things. I guess you would know that after stealing his soul. You took away the chance to have my grandfather watch me graduate high school. He’s never going to see me graduate college in a few years and he’ll never be there to watch me walk down the aisle. But I thank you in some way for not taking him too soon. Of all the important walks he’s going to miss he was there for some of the best ones, the first ones, the 8^th grade graduation, the first school dance. He was there because you weren’t yet.

But now you’re not done taking, because although you took one life from me, that just isn’t enough for you. Please leave my Mommom alone. You’re almost done your cycle with her and I can’t do this again. It’s bad enough you took away one parent from my father, please don’t take away them both. You are the ultimate memory thief. You have wiped her mind clean of all my birthdays, holidays, and every little moment in between. You’ve removed me from her memory and that’s something I cannot forgive you for. You have taught me insurmountable loss and how to cope with losing the people that shaped me. With every memory you’ve taken, there is something you cannot steal and that is the remnants of them that remain in me. You cannot steal the sense of humor and laugh I got from my Pop Pop. As much as you might try one day, you can’t take the bright blue eyes my Mommom gave me either. There are just some things you will never be able to steal and that brings me solace knowing that my heart is impenetrable to your malice and your theft.

Sincerely,

The girl you tried to take everything from