This is a work of imagination. Something on the o r d e r of 'based on a true story'. . .but with extra liberties taken. As you know, for far too many people, Alzheimer's Disease and other memory-stealing disorders are a fact of life. None of us are immune. Sometimes it happens to the person we count on most when it comes to talking things out. Talking to others may or may not help, but keeping our feelings bottled hurts.
As for the rest, the boat and the comments people made about the slab of foam with a sail -- and the couple attempting to sail it -- were real. The emotions -- the sadness, the anger, the anxiety, the empathy, and yes, fear -- are real. It is the story 'en toto' that is fabricated.
Thank you for being here. It means the world.
'Pea'

   
The little red boat.
The fishermen.
Sun turning lemon.
Water going flump, flump, flump
We were at the quiet end.
Me in a cotton bikini
I had made.  Seersucker,
I believe. You were plastered
with sunscreen to keep from burning.
Army examiner once put down,
“complexion ruddy.”  What
a laugh.  But we are on the lake.
Jordan, I think.  Casting off,
a woman put down a pail to point,
“What is that, a biscuit tray?”
But sail,  we did.  Okay, okay.
In our fashion.  Sailors, no way.  
Ask the three beered-up fishers
who rowed by when we were  too far
out. “You guys aren’t married.  Look
too happy!”    Flump, flump, flump.  
Swelling cloud’s got us worried.
Best turn around.  Not the words
I try on friends next day. “Tacking’s
for the birds,” I remember going on.
“Rain starts to spit. . .we are, like, Help!”  
Best part the shower we took.
The tingle.   Suddenly finding
we are not tired, after all.
 
Now you can’t remember
the little red boat.
Fishermen.  Sun.  Flump
and the biscuit tray are gone
along with my name.
Along with yours.
Look at the picture again, okay?
Let me tell you what I
recall

 

        (c) Phyllis Jean Green, 2007
               All Rights Reserved.