Descriptive Alzheimer's Narrative

My papw has had Alzheimer’s longer than I can remember. When I was younger, I spent much of my time at my mamaw and papaw’s house. I remember the front door’s white paint being so old and cracked it resembled the bark of a river birch tree, and stepping into the house you could smell the thick aroma of whatever my papaw was cooking that day. One day in particular I was looming over my papaw’s shoulder as he began to cook a breakfast of fried eggs for my mamaw. He positioned himself to where I could watch and learn how to cook the meal myself. I watched intently as he lathered the skillet with butter and cracked the eggs one by one. After each crack, the egg would spill into the skillet and immediately loud sizzling followed. Once he finished, …show more content…
What used to be the dining room was now transformed into a last minute bedroom. It had all of the basic necessities; a bed, a dresser for this clothes and a T.V. for entertainment. Suddenly, I heard the sharp thump of our dog, Abbey’s, tail whipping against the front window of the house. Cardyn eagerly ran to the front window and was elated by the sight of our grandfather stepping out of our father’s shiny black car. He stood, still slightly hunkered over, and waved his long arm in the air at Cardyn who delightedly waved back. I stepped outside to greet him with a hug. It was a blistering hot day; so hot you could see the heat waves blaring above the blackened concrete. The old man had sweat beading on his forehead and through his smile and excitement I could already tell the heat was getting to him. I urged him inside into the cool air conditioned interior. I showed him the ways around the house, where the bathroom was, the kitchen, the living room, and of course his own bedroom. He thanked me four different times, forgetting each time he had said it before. At the time, however, I had barely noticed the extent to which his Alzheimer’s had