these days

i am with my father these days. He had become a kid, he yields, cries, laughs, he believes he is persecuted. He has Alzheimer’. We try to understands its process, we hope not be erased, we assist to a de-construction, is a vertigo, but his mind in this erratic yet rational way, works. There are thoughts, emotions there, there is body that wants to eat, sleep, dance at some points. If i would have seen this scene in a film, i would have though it was too mellow… Today my mother approached him with a paper and a red pen. Asked him to write his name. He took the pen with the same hand he used to, and wrote in caps like he used to. Started letter by letter, slowly. Here what he wrote. And i will add a song to this scene that came to my mind. We breathe the days and follow his desire to live. His written words means “i love you”
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mi_papa
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