Lost

I've never thought much about what it feels like to have Alzheimers disease. But recently I had an experience which gave me a glimse of what it may be like to experience dementia if not the onset of Alzhiemers itself. On Friday (9/4/2015)  we attended the State Fair; the "Great Minnesota Get Together." Over a million and a half people pass through the gates during the 12 days of the State Fair.

Pat and I got up early planning to beat the crowd and meet our daughter for breakfast at the Salem Lutheran Church Dining Hall, one of the last of the the nieghborhood church kitchens that were a staple at our Fair for decades. We arrived at 6:45 AM and were among the first to pull into the fairgrounds and be directed toward a parking lot and one of the 9000 parking spaces available on the fair grounds. I complained about what seemed like a long drive to our designated spot as we passed open lots and countless attendants with orange flags. But, when we finally clicked the locks on the car door and handed over our tickets we were only a few steps from the gate.

A few hours later, after an enjoyable morning of farm animals and eating our favorite state fair treats, we made the slow trek through an expanding crowd of people, and a rising dew point. We were quite literally heating up but I recognized certain land marks that assured me we were correctly retracing our steps. But once outside the gate and into a parking lot labled camel, I realized we were not in Camelot and neither was our car. I didn't recognize anything and realized I had no idea where I had parked the car. We were lost.

At first, I was confident. There would be land marks, a recognition of the road we came in on. But the further we went the more fearful and confused I became. I decided we needed help to retrace our steps and locate the car. We also decided to find a place in the shade where Pat could wait. She had recently completed some medical treatment and was more rapidly affected by the heat because of it. I found a parking staff member who helped me narrow the possible locations of our car by determining the time and location where we entered the Fair Grounds. He pointed out two likely locations and provided a map. I convinced a ticket clerk to let me re-enter the fairground and got directions to the gate from an information booth attendant.  When I finally arrived at the gate marked on the map a friendly attendant helped me decide on one lot. I walked on through 20 or 30 rows of automobiles continuously pressing the lock button on the car key when I finally heard the blessed sound of a car horn. My good samaritans guided me and with their help I was able to drive directly to where Pat waited and we were on our way.

I was relieved at first but as the days passed I went over my feelings and thoughts from the experience of misplacing the car. I was afraid. I felt helpless. I was confused. My surroundings were unfamiliar. I knew I couldn't find my way on my own. I finally, got hold of myself and methodically retraced my steps and appreciated as never before how grateful I am for those mental skills we take for granted. But it may also have been a sample of a future that may last more that a few minutes?  

Llama Judging