Day5-Cherishing Moments That Shine Amidst Oblivion

On an autumn evening, I sat on a quiet park bench, watching leaves dance in the wind. The distant laughter of children reached my ears, a gentle melody that reminded me of my mother.

My mother suffers from dementia. I wonder how this world appears through her eyes. I, too, live with bipolar disorder, and sometimes I feel my own reality begin to waver. As the illness deepens, the line between reality and illusion blurs, and even the presence of loved ones fades into obscurity.

"Will there come a day when I am no longer myself?" The thought sends a shiver through my heart. Perhaps my mother feels the same way. Unaware that she lives in a world not quite real, she still strives to get through each day.

The world inside my head is beautiful yet silent. There are no bothersome insects, not even butterflies or birds cross my path. I'm enveloped in a strange sensation, as if I've been repeating life and death countless times. Yet, as long as I remember the people and things I hold dear, I wish to live alongside them in the real world.

"I want to live each day to the fullest"—perhaps because I don't know when I might cease to be myself. My mother and I, we both live in worlds of our own creation. Still, the feelings we share for each other remain unchanged. Until that day comes, we want to live earnestly, giving it our all.