Today, On CNA
The Upcoming Concert I've Already Missed
My sister-in-law Amy is excited.
“Remember that concert I told you about?” I have a vague recollection, something about a homecoming to New York City. “Well, it’s today.”
“Cool,” I say. “Who did you say was performing?”
“I don’t remember. I didn’t write it down,” she tells me. “But I do know it’s on CNA.”
I had never heard of CNA, except as in Certified Nurse’s Assistant. “Are you sure it isn’t CNN?”
“No, CNA.” Amy is emphatic. “Look it up. I’m sure you’ll see it mentioned somewhere.”
Later, around 4:30, Amy calls again. This time, she is agitated.
“Remember that concert I told you about?” Yes, I tell her. I remember.
“Well, I can’t find it anywhere. Have you started watching it?”
I tell her I haven’t. This seems to annoy her. I say I don’t watch TV during the day, which is the truth, but I’ll look for it after dinner and get back to her, also the truth. “Fine,” she says, and hangs up.
It’s hard (impossible) for me to live with the knowledge of disgruntled Amy, a stinging nettle lodged under my thin skin, so I Google the concert, which is an actual thing, airing on CNN on August 21st.
I call her back.
“Hey, Amy, I found the concert…”
“I did, too.”
“It’s not until the 21st, and it’s on CNN.”
“I know, I know.” Already, she is so over it.
Lamely, I continue. “Maybe I’ll catch it then. It sounds like a great lineup.”
“Okay. Bye.”
So this is now-Amy, in her most current Alzheimer’s incarnation, worrying an obsession for days before dropping it like a radioactive potato. I know this, but I can’t help but get looped in. I am learning to accept that Amy and I share a different reality, and as hard as she tries, in the moment, to pull me into hers, and as much as I allow the pull-in, finding any sort of foothold in the shifting sands of her cognition is impossible. She’s gone before I get there.
Even so. She has my number, and it’s on speed dial. I answer, and I listen. All the while the clock is ticking, the focal point changes, and the landscape slides by. Every single thing I am asked if I remember, the second hand moves, and she does not.