Morning comes too soon for my liking. I feel like I only got to sleep a few minutes ago. The sad reality is that no one sleeps in at the Jones residence as much as I would to continue to stay in this bed.

 That is something I cannot do, my mother would come and drag me by my edges if I stay in bed past 8am.

The weather is partly cloudy, so after a shower I slip on some boyfriend jeans that have no rips, and a giant sweater that I took from Lex's collection of clothes.

It's a navy blue Tommy Hilfiger that smells like him. I grab a pair of Converse and slip them on my feet before making up the bed, then go downstairs to join the family for breakfast.

The sitting arrangement is the same as last night's. Greeting both my parents with a hug, I kiss Nana on the cheek before going to my seat.

Eggs, bacon, hash browns and sausages fill the plates on the table. I get my love for cooking from my mother, and I am good at it but food I make can never taste the same as food cooked by her.

"Who are you?", my grandmother's voice cuts through the comfortable silence that was present while we are in the middle of eating and minding our business.

Mom and dad look up from the newspaper they were reading. They always shared a newspaper every morning.

I look up from the memes I was reading on Instagram and look at her.

She asks again, the question clearly directed towards me, "Who are you?".

The chewed up bacon in my mouth feels like a rock going down my throat as I swallow.

"Nana, it's me...Rosie"

Her brows furrow up in confusion, "Rosie?"

My dad clarifies for her, "Ma, Rosalie, my daughter".

Her curious eyes look at me once more. I can see she is trying hard to remember who I am.

"Alina, that can't be her. You were pregnant just yesterday", Nana turns towards mom and looks at her not so pregnant tummy.

"That was 23 years ago Franny" mom hold her hand that's placed on the armrest of the wheelchair.

The whole ordeal breaks my heart. I had a great conversation with Nana last night and this morning she doesn't even recognise me. I curse this disease.

How can we stand to watch her lose herself to this. Tears fill my eyes as I watch mom wheel her out into the living room.

"Is it always like that?', I ask dad since we're the only people left in the kitchen.

His shoulders sag in defeat as he releases a heavy sigh, "It's getting worse Rosie, and it scares me".

I've only ever seen my father cry once and that was when both his brother and father died in a car crash ten years ago. Uncle Dominic and Grandpa Louis had a horrible encounter with a black ice covered road that led to the car crashing into a semi truck and them losing their lives instantly. 

My heart aches for him as I hug him and let him cry. It's more of a soundless, shaking of his shoulders as tears run down his face. I get that he is scared of losing his mother too.

He never fully recovered from the trauma that accident brought to this family. We still celebrate their birthdays and holidays with them in mind.

When dad leaves for work, I decide to take a walk around the neighbourhood to help clear my head. I can't get over how I felt when nana did not recognise me at breakfast. My heart clenches every time I replay the ordeal in my head.

A tear trails down my cheek as I sit on a bench that's near a playground. Parents walk hand in hand as they walk their children to school. A few people enjoy their morning jog, cars pass by and lives go one.

I can't help but wonder how we sometimes are good at hiding our troubles. How many of these perfect picturesque people face hardships in their lives. The mom walking her toddler to school, does she have problems in her life?

The man jogging, is he trying to run away from his problems?

I sit on this bench with my sorrow displayed and I wonder how many of us are willing to do so. How many of us actually live with our emotions out for the world to see.

After wallowing in my sad thoughts for a few minutes, I pull put my phone to call the one person who has been with me through thick and thin.

She picks up on the third ring, "Babe, I was just thinking about you".

A sob stops me from saying a word, "Rosalie? What's going on?" she frantically asks.

"It's Nana".

"Oh my gosh, no. Is she-?", the question hangs in the air while I pull myself together.

"No, she's just getting worse Gigi". I tell her about what happened this morning and she listens to every word I say.

"Rosie I'm so sorry", I hear her sniffle.

Gigi knows my family and my grandma's condition. She was there when I found out about it. Mom considers her a second daughter, so I understand how she is also hurt by Nana's battle with this life sucking disease.

"I can take some time off from work and come over. Just say the word".

I smile at her eagerness to drop everything just to comfort me, "It's okay, I'll be back in a few days".

"Okay chica, I love you and send my love to the rest of the family".

"I will, and I love you too". 

I'm glad I called her because now I feel calm. The sadness is not as much as before. That's one of the things I love about Gigi, she is a great listener. And she gets that sometimes all she has to do is to listen and I immediately feel better.

Sometimes it's better to just listen to someone and not say anything. Just let them get it all out.

And as the person who is venting, sometimes it is better to not expect advice from others. Let them be there for you in whatever way that they can.

The walk back is nice. The refreshing air is a treat to my lungs as I take deep, soothing breaths.

"Rosalie, is that you?", a voice calls out to me.

Mrs Gallagher, our neighbour from across the street waves to me. I walk towards her, "Hey Mrs G".

Her scent invites me in as she pulls me for a hug. She owns a bakery which is why I always welcome her hugs, mainly because she smells like freshly baked cookies all the time.

I end up in her kitchen, munching on bran muffins which I chase down with a warm cup of milk.

"When did you get back?" she asks while she dips a biscuit into her tea.

"Late afternoon yesterday".

We spend some time catching up on events in our lives. I tell her about college and life in the big city while she informs me that her son, Charlie is getting married in a couple of weeks.

Charlie Gallagher is my childhood crush. He is ridiculously handsome in a boy next door type of way. Growing up an only child just like myself, our parents forced friendship between us even though he was a good three years older than me.

I used to fantasize about our future together. How we would date, get married and have three kids and two golden retrievers. But Charlie only saw me as a little sister no matter how many times I would hint that I wanted us to be more than friends.

We drifted apart when he left for college seven years ago. He is a good man, his soon-to-be wife is a very lucky woman.

I go home with a tummy filled with muffins and a Tupperware container filled with even more muffins and cookies.

The moment I get back home, Jelly Bean welcomes me by giving me a cute doggy smile as I close the front door.

Nana is in her room, fast asleep and mom is in the living room, her laptop propped open on her lap.

Her small fingers run at a fast pace on the keyboard as she types. Mom is an online assistant. She works for this writing company but rarely goes into the office, she mostly proofreads manuscripts and does other duties on behalf of her boss.

One of the things I liked about her working from home was the fact that I would see more of her. Most of our bonding was over the reading that we would do as she would rope me into helping her get through the pile of books that needed to be ready for publishing.

This is why it was easier for her to help with taking care of Nana. Because she would be around her most of the time.

"What have you got there?', she asks, not looking up from the screen.

Placing the Tupperware on the coffee table, I plop myself on the adjacent couch from where she sits, "Muffins and cookies from Mrs G".

"Ohh, yum", she places the laptop next to her as she lunges for the container with the treats.

I swear she is like a child sometimes.

"So...how was your walk?" she asks in between bites of the chocolate chip cookie in her hand.

My brain mulls over this question for a few seconds.

How was the walk...really?

I guess it was okay and did me good since I feel a lot better than I did before, especially after speaking to Gigi about the situation. 

What broke me and made me more frustrated was how gutted my father is by this whole thing. Alzheimer's does not just affect the victim of it but it also affects the people in that person's life.

Imagine losing functionality of your body. Forgetting how to do most mundane tasks. Losing all your precious memories.

Not being able to remember your loved ones.

This morning was a glimpse into what it would be like to live in my biggest nightmare.

Being forgotten.

That's a scary thing to experience.

"It was good. I got to see a few familiar faces" I finally answer her question.

"That's great, wanna help me out with this manuscript?", she pulls out a thick wad of papers binded together, that she hands towards me.

"Mom..", I laugh, "I haven't even agreed yet".

"You don't have to agree but you will read this for me", a grin makes its way onto her lips.

She's right, I don't have a choice. Not only because she did not give me one but because I can't resist when it comes to a good book.

I grab a highlighter from her stationary case and get on to reading, while on the lookout for spelling errors.