My grandfather does not know my name. When I visit him, I introduce myself, he takes my hand in his and shakes it firmly. He asks me where I’m from, what school I go to and he follows this with a comment on the weather. He then reverts back dipping his piping hot tea, as he sits in a peaceful silence on his cherry red armchair listening to the crackling of the fire. As I watch my grandad, I see the effects of age. His skin is faded and timeworn, his thick head of hair, once golden now a chalky white. Alongside him a slender, smooth black cane. The only feature that has age hasn’t touched are his bright azure eyes. They stay sparkly and vibrant…. youthful. 

My grandfather sits, completely oblivious to his surroundings. A surge of sadness and sympathy washes over me. How cruel age can be. Age has stolen my grandfather’s memories. The memories that have shaped him into the man he is today. It’s funny I ponder, grandad thinks we’ve only just met, when little does he know of my sisters and I’s fond memories of him. He has no clue of the blissful days spent running around the beach, the velvety, fine grained sand beneath our feet. He can’t remember taking us to get cold creamy ice cream cones on a boiling hot summer’s day as we sat outside, the sun shining down on us. I gaze out the window, memories come flooding back. My sister and I running around the fields, screaming and shouting while Pebbles chased and barked after us. He has no recollection of the pivotal occasions of our family. The christenings, weddings and communions of both his children and grandchildren, and yet I remember it all as if it were yesterday.My thoughts are interrupted abruptly. My grandfather begins to shake my hand, he asks my name, my age and what school I go to. The weather is shocking he comments as the raindrops patter gently on the window panes. 

Alzeihmers is a disease currently wreaking havoc on 44 millions People’s lives around the world. It is a disease that has pity on no one. When my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzeihmers it was a solemn one to say the least. When the news was broken, I never fully comprehended the extent the effects would have on both him and my family. I had never imagined that this man who played such a significant part in my life would one day think I was a stranger. My grandfather who once walked and swam every single day now rendered childlike for the second time in his life. 

Before I took memories for granted. I now know how important our memories are. A memory is as precious as a diamond. They help us evolve and change into the people we become. They teach us lessons that we carry each and every day of our lives. So I urge you never take a memory for granted, whether it is joyful or sorrowful, treasure your memories, make as many as you can and keep them. A memory is a treasure chest filled with jewels and gems. So make as many memories as you can.

By: Allie Murphy