Antone LeBlanc: In memory of Grandpa |

Antone LeBlanc: In memory of Grandpa

To the editor:

In 1906, Dr. Aldis Alzheimer noticed changes in the brain tissue of a woman who had died of an unusual mental illness. That was the day I got my name, but, unlike you, that was not also the day I was born.


I was born when the first breakthrough was lost to memory.

I created the barrier that lies on the tip of your tongue every once in a while.

I am a thief.

I hit licks while they slumber.

I plunder.


I’ve found that your lives are merely at war with time.

War, war never changes, and time never stops.

It’s exhausting but necessary.

I guess that’s why your soldiers need fatigues.

But not me …

Though I am a battle I wear childhoods over my head to cover the scars I’ve taken from them.

Every follicle is a fossil from one of their closets.


I take skeletons, too.

And regrets.

And love.

And milestones.

And children.

And experience.

I’ve taken more memories than a fire on a photo album.

I know all of their favorite pictures better than they do.

I’m a hoarder.

I’ve collected more skin than the wrinkles in my victim’s faces.

You see,

I only prey on those with wisdom, so pray for those with wisdom.

They know not how I will take them,

Like I took him.

Calvin LeBlanc was one of my favorites.

A great,


A husband,

A brother,

A father,

A victim,

A man that now breathes but has no life.

Looks but has no vision except mine.

I’ve selected his sight for some time.

He is almost empty.

And I choose what he sees.

He is under my knife.

And I hold his memories in my hands like a brain surgeon.

Brains surge through the skills of a skull, and I am there to catch them.

When they know too much, I start to take back.

Thank you for this knowledge.

Without it I would never know love!

Or happiness!

Or the pain that I bring!

I’m sorry that I get my life from taking yours.

Pills won’t suppress me.

I won’t let you remember, Calvin, you know too much like the rest of them!

And I won’t rest until you’re at rest.

It’s not like you would have more peace of mind anyway.

I’ve walked in your shoes, and I’ve stolen your soul.

Chasing this humanity through every inch of vanity and humility,

I’ve taken every moment that ever took your breath away,

And every gust of wind beneath your growing shoulder blades,

Every memory I’ve taken is a tear I have given them.

I once had a purpose for this killing,

And I once knew why death made the past so much more convenient …

But I’m starting to forget myself …

I’m a thief … And a murderer.

And my name is Alzheimer’s.

Cause of death?

Forget how to live.

Antone LeBlanc


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