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Losing Sight Of Reality

[Disclaimer: This is more about the situation leading up to the story rather than the story itself.]

Things had not always been that bad.

There was a time when I was dependent on the two angels sent by God - my parents. Till last year, till I had turned 26 that is, this son had no worries in life. My mom managed the house, the helps, my room and what not. Clothes would magically end up being washed and ironed, food would be packed and available every morning, with notes in my lunch boxes. And then, there was my recently retired dad managing all my bills, finances and most things outside my job. I was a workaholic, even though we were quite well off and I didn't have to do a job.

But then, it gave me my own identity, and some respect from the society around me. It also kept me from seriously considering distractions like girlfriends. Well, to be honest, I had tried and failed heavily in that department. I was too frail and small for the girls I liked to seriously consider me. Most friends of mine made what they considered to be harmless fun of me from time to time, grouping me with the girls, opening doors for me, inviting me to girls' parties and all that. Even the one girl I had a major crush on once told me I looked more like her sister than she did. My high pitched voice or the lack of any considerable body or facial hair didn't help my case either. No, the girlfriend attempts were a serious embarrassment.

Coming back to the story, I was not ready for the accident.

Yes, it was a vehicle mishap but No. it didn't involve me. I lost my mother to a deadly car accident and my father, who drove our car, went into depression and according to doctors, kept trying to block the memory of the gruesome incident. His advanced age also kicked in and doctors weren't sure how much of his memory issues were post traumatic and how much was because of the accelerating onset of dementia.

It had been a year since the accident then. I did not go to work anymore, primarily because my dad needed help at home, and I didn't trust anyone else to be capable of handling his mood swings except for me and Nurse Mary, who visited once a day - and whenever I needed a break. Mood swings, yes, the dementia was swift and cruel. I even got rid of all the help around the house and the lawns, since seeing them - and not remembering them - made him mad.

That Thursday was like any other. I was still in my PJs when the yelling started. The frail 5 foot 2 inch me had to drag my reasonably strong, six foot dad out of his bed. He had refused to get up, with the idea that the house would blow up if he moved out of bed. I dragged him out to show him that it was okay, amidst much yelling, and forced him to get started on his daily routine - from brushing his teeth to taking bath. Habits were supposed to help him, to keep his dementia from getting worse.

"Now, where's my razor?" He shaved every thursday, but his memory had slipped into the past. He was looking for a razor that he used when I was kid. I did the usual convincing that the new razor (something he'd been using for a while then was a gift from me and he should try it.

"You should definitely try it today, no excuses."

He first looked at the razor and then me and repeated the process a couple of times. His voice sounded fragile when he said, "You know what, Suzie, a lot of things don't seem to make any sense any more."

While I was moved by the weakness in his voice - a weakness he had hidden from his dear son all her life - I was also shocked. Suzie was my mom's name. For some reason, he was seeing my mom in me. Was it because she kept her hair short too?

It had never happened before. He usually cried when he was alone, thinking about the accident. He looked somewhat at peace just then, even though he was very confused. He even started mumbling an old song to himself while shaving, and despite all the freaking out, it also cheered me up a little.

I realised that he didn't need to cry any more. He had finally succeeded in pushing all the negative memories out of his system. In his world, we were still one happy family. And I remember wondering just then, why shouldn't he be happy?

It was all I could do to not cry then and there. I turned to walk out of the room, trying to gather my wits around me.

"You know. Suzie, you look positively gorgeous today." I stopped in my tracks and turned around to see him smiling at my reflection in the mirror while shaving. "Not really sure what, but you look more beautiful today that you've ever been. Getting better with time, I'd say."

I couldn't help but smile at the cheerful man lost in his own fantasies. It was going to be bad again very soon with the mood swings kicking in, but for a while, the man was going to be in some happy world. Truly happy.He looked at least twenty years younger almost at once.

"Are you okay, Su? Something the matter?"

"No," I shook my head. "Everything is just fine."

His smile suggested that I managed to reassure him. "Su, I don't know if you've planned something for the day, but why don't we stay in? We could catch a movie or something." Then, there was clearly some mischief in his tone. "I feel a little tired today, too. You know what cheers me up."

"What?" I asked. Just seeing him behaving like his old self brought a big smile on my face automatically.

"The Soo-Thing-Tonic of course." My question/doubt seemed to confuse him. I made a mental note not to do that again. "Why don't we take a swim in the pool now, Suzie?"

I wanted to get that confused look off his face at any cost. "Sure, da..." I couldn't say Dad! "David."

"Cool. Why don't you quickly get out of that nonsense and into my favorite pink chemise then?"

I nodded, to keep him from getting confused and asked him to go right ahead while I changed. Once he left the room, I freaked out a little more openly.

I mean, Mom? How could he confuse me for mom?! I mean, yes, a lot of people would say I had her eyes and her smile, but couldn't he see I was his son? And Chemise? Seriously?

While I wondered if I should just wait for him to forget what was going on, he shouted from the pool below. "Suzie!"

I don't know what got over me. I slowly walked to my mother's wardrobe - which was largely untouched for the last year - and looked about. Before that day, I'd not really wanted anything from there other than pocket money, so it was a bit overwhelming to search for a pink chemise from among the hundred odd pink things in that single wardrobe. Looking back, I am not sure if that was the overwhelming part.

Fortunately, I found a pink chemise in less than 2 minutes and decided that was probably it. I got out of my PJs and stood naked for a few seconds, coming to terms with the realisation that I was going to wear my mother's chemise. I also got into a matching bra and panties set for some reason before throwing on the chemise.

"Suzie!"

"IN A MINUTE!" I did my best impersonation of my mom and immediately felt a little alive. After a very long year. It was like she was back in that room after quite some time. I checked the mirror once and adjusted my hair to look a little more like hers (unsuccessfully, I should add) and went down to join Dad... no, 'David', at the pool.

[To be continued. Please let me know if you liked it.]

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