Thursday, September 10, 2015

Great minds do not think alike

Yesterday Harold Charles Donofrio, Jr. was admitted to Arden Courts Towson. He was a little restless during the evening hours but woke up ready to sing and dance and enjoy his day. I'm sure he's had some ice cream by now.

Nothing can be said that hasn't been said.

My friend called me this evening and read Chuck's first blog post from 2009 where he spoke so eloquently about it all.  I had forgot that first one.

Here, below, is the repost.  I, certainly, could not have said it better.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009


Inundation

Embrace three feet of snow. Follow with brilliant, clear skies. Notice that it is not that cold. See charming gigantic icicles, dripping. Watch little stream begin to freshen. See clear stream begin to muddy. Find cistern overflowing. Hear a dull "white noise" sort of sound coming from the now numerous rivulets of water. Recognize that puddles are turning to miniature lakes. Realize that there may be flooding in the rivers. Run to get day pack, scrap all plans, other than surveying the now once in 15 year water levels. Jump in car to see largest waterfalls in Baltimore and Harford County. Drive to every decent bridge, as the roaring of waters fuels the pulse. Start to encounter other maddened flood chasers, words tumbling out of their mouths, sputtering epithets and crude uses of the language now not only acceptable, but imperative, descriptions only misappropriated by the urgency of the need to capture, to fix in the mind what can't really be fixed, all is feeling and adrenaline, in the roar of waters and the knowledge that all too soon this too shall pass, like a life cut short, a knife dulled, the frayed edge of the Alz-affected, trying to fix what cannot be solidified, yearning for a way to make it stay, grasping for meaning, yearning for a way to make it part of my soul, to put another totem on the pole, interpreting the life that cannot be lived, the memory that cannot be retained, to find a reliable fixed point knowing all too well there is no fixity, there is no capturing the smoke of desire or the fecundity of water-soaked earth.

We love you honey. xoxo


2 comments:

  1. For those people who's relative are Alzheimer’s Disease sufferer and maybe reading this, I find it hard that people are still ignorant of herbal medicine when it comes to treating Alzheimer’s Disease.
    I have been through many phases over the last couple of years since my father's diagnosis, he was 53 years old and had Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease and his diagnosis changed my life in many ways, I spend most of the time in denial and I keep thinking the tests were wrong. But deep down I knew they were correct. Though sharing his story is very difficult. He was always very successful in being able to accomplish anything he set his mind on doing. Alzheimer’s is a bitch of a disease. It began by robbing his recent memory, but it didn't stop there. It continues to steal, taking the most recent memories until it has pilfered all but the oldest memories, he experienced a decline in his ability to think, remember and make decisions. I feel a need to express my thoughts and feelings about how it affected his day to day living and how its deteriorated since despite the help of some wonderful medics and medicine.
    I remind myself how lucky to come across Charanjit rychtova's herbal medicine which is able to control this disease without any side effect, I felt a moment of relief hoping that he is free from this ailment, and nothing compares to the healing power of nature. Now I believe almost every health problem can be addressed in one natural way or another. The only thing I wanted was for him to feel better. I’m proud to say my Dad is Alzheimer’s free. You can also contact him for more info. charantova@gmail.com

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  2. Hi, my name is Dana. My dad, John, was friends with Chuck long, long ago, when I was a little kid and they worked at Y&R together. I remember Chuck from back then--I couldn't have been more than 7, if that--as laughing a lot, with a big presence...the word *jovial* is what comes to mind now, even though my 6 or 7yo self wouldn't have known it. I liked him a lot. I remember him visiting, smiling, talking to me like I was a little person (kids are the ultimate Bullshit Detectors and I know he was for real)...enough that one night a while back, when I was trying to recall Long Ago People From My Little Kid Years, I thought to google him and found this blog (for the record, I'm 42 now, which is roughly 10 years older than Chuck would have been when I knew him!) Anyway, not sure what else to say, but for what it's worth, if you could please pass on lots of love to Chuck from a (mostly) grown-up-once-little-kid who really liked him long ago (and from the sounds of it, probably still would). Wishing all the love and strength in the world to you and your family.

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