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One of the hardest things about losing a parent to dementia is when they start to forget you. Luckily, most of the time, my dad still seems to at least know that I’m someone he loves, and often knows I’m his daughter. But there are those moments. And they’re brutal on the heart. It feels like a betrayal, even though it’s 100% outside his control. The disease is forgetting me, he’s not. So we find ourselves practicing with him, as though we can drill our reality into him. We ask, “Who am I?” We ask, “Who is your daughter?” We ask, “Who are you?” We ask, “Do you remember?”

This piece, from my Fractured Memories series, is about that begging we do when he seems to be forgetting.

Remember Me acrylic on canvas, 36

Remember Me
acrylic on canvas, 36″x48″

The text in the background reads: i do not want to remember you when you do not remember me. or, more precisely, i want you to remember me. but, long after your mind has released the strings that tethered, through silver tinted memories, you to me, i will grasp wildly at those tenuous strands. i shall stand before you, insistent, willing you to recall my face and know my name. i will rip through those cobwebs, desperately hoping that, just for a moment, you will return yourself to me.

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