I am going to try to commit to visit my Uncle Phil in the residential memory impairment unit where he is living on a weekly basis. This past week, I stopped to see him and he was in the dining hall having dinner, at a table with other residents, all strangers. There was no conversation between them and my Uncle looked at his dish as he ate. It was bittersweet to see him like this. Maybe his world is smaller and more comfortable to him now as his anxiety seems to have disappeared and is replaced with complacency. I walked over and said, “Hello Uncle Phil!” He looked up and smiled and said hello without saying my name. He asked how everyone was doing. I brought him some Italian sandwich pasta salad. He used to make it often but he still asked what the name of the dressing was that I used. I leaned forward to give him a hug.
             Then I began to tell him how my father rebuilt his trailer. He was confused and asked who I was talking about. I replied I was talking about his brother, Johnny, my father. Then he confirmed that he knew Johnny. He then asked me if his own house had been sold. He said that he was almost certain it had been sold. I relied yes. He asked about all his gear and said maybe his brother had some of it. I replied that his son had been taking good care of his affairs and that everything was in storage. He told me to ask his son to put a little money in his account so that he could do some things he wanted to do. He replied he hoped that his son was handling his affairs well. He then told me that he hoped to leave the place soon.
             When I first started visiting my Uncle Phil, he was very agitated with his son. His son is a good son, doing the best he can. It has not been easy for him to see his father lose his mental abilities. We had seen for a few years now, indications that he was having some memory loss. He kept losing things, like keys. A few times, he lost his sense of direction but recalled his phone number so he could get directions on how to get back home. He would be driving somewhere and get lost. He had several accidents in the past few years and it took intervention from a doctor to take away his license. It reminds me of nightmares I have had in the past of losing my way every day at school, lost in a maze. The mind is a curious thing. We may never fully understand the complexities that lie within each of us. It makes me wonder how people can get involved with drugs and wreck their circuitry in their heads.
             I had a difficult time visiting my Uncle these past couple of years as he repeated the same stories, word for word. He ranted and was very anxious and never listened when I tried to converse. The conversations were one sided. He was not always like that. I found him a fascinating man to be around when I was a kid. He had a deep interest in history and I thought he was very interesting. I respected his knowledge regarding anything historical. In fact, he and my dad once took my cousin Steve and I gold-panning on the Swift River. It was a nice memory. My dad and my Uncle used to take us camping, to museums, antique shops and all sorts of places of interest. More recently, my Uncle kept journals of each move he made every day, maybe an attempt to recall what he did. Most of it was useless information, such as when he smoked a cigarette, or had a drink, or made a phone call. He recorded all his mileage. To look at his bits of paper scattered everywhere, he assured me that he was going to copy them into his book. The writing was very uniform and covered every white section of the paper. It was obsessive compulsive. He had several books like this filled with all his notes. It reminded me of the movie, “A Beautiful Mind”, in which Russell Crowe plays a man with Schizophrenia.
             Anyhow, I hope to visit him once a week. I sort of miss my Uncle and the feistiness he sometimes showed which has suddenly been replaced with complacency. I think he seems more at peace now, and maybe that is healthier for him. I want him to have peace. I want my cousin to have peace too. It has been a tough journey for my cousin.