I'm no fan of self-referential weblog postings, but I sense I am just about to write one.

The title 'Fading from Memory' was intended to contain two ideas: the first, and obvious, one is that so much is fading from my parents' memories. The second is that, in parallel, they seem to be fading from the memory of those around them.

Their small circle of friends has dwindled down to almost nothing. Neighbours who used to come over to feed every weekend no longer do. Even the other churchmembers have passed them by. Socially, my parents are fading from memory.

The big wheels of the world keep turning for other people now, and don't stop for my parents. The world just isn't made for old people. My dad received a reminder that he had an optometry appointment, written in eight point san serif. The tax department sent him a threatening 20-page form to fill out. The local mall insists on pumping music at my mother whenever we go there for a coffee or stroll. The 'walk' sign at the traffic lights doesn't stay green long enough. Old people are forgotten people.

And thirdly, the people they used to be: adventurous, optimistic, energetic, even exuberant people are also being forgotten. Once embedded in huge extended families (both my parents had about forty first cousins) the number of people who can remember them as children or teenagers is now pathetically small. There are some family memories that only I can remember (my parents are too old now, and my brother Greg was too young then). There is something grim about this knowledge. All that life, forgotten.

But what is 'Fading from Memory' supposed to be, given all that?

With it, I seem to have followed a well-worn path. I began with a multitude of poorly-defined goals, thinking (quite incredibly it now seems) that this was to be the world's first hands-on daily-dealing-with-Alzheimer's blog. I was sure that no-one else was writing about having both parents suffering from the disease. So, I was wrong about uniqueness, and now I'm uncertain where 'Fading from Memory' fits in, and what purpose it serves. The time for a bit of public self-absorption appears to have come.

Other Alzheimer's weblogs seem to already fill the market. If you want detail, see Mom & Me Too by Gail Rae Hudson. If you want brutal honesty, see Alzheimer's - The Carer's View by Patricia Howitt. For articulate introspection there is The Yellow Wallpaper by Deb Peterson, for copious references, try The Tangled Neuron by Mona Johnson. And as for seeing Alzheimer's as a subject for writing there are two weblogs: Dementia Blues by Paula Martinac, and Smoke & Mirrors by Michael Murphy. Unsurprisingly, all these weblogs are on my blogroll, and most link to each other. There is even a Alzheimer's webring now, Memory Lane, also by Michael Murphy, where these and several other links are organised for you.

So it appears I may have a very narrow vein to mine.

Not only narrow, the vein may also be quickly exhausted. Just how many times can I usefully talk about my mother getting upset, my father forgetting things, my siblings and I trying something new? More significantly, how long can we last before we give up and convince ourselves that it really is better for mum and dad if we put them in the hands of strangers? I read the abovementioned blogs and just don't think I could do what some of their authors have done. The devotion they demonstrate is so much more than I have ever been called on to provide. So soon after making a start, I am now thinking 'Fading from Memory' may very well describe its own imminent fate. This is a surprise to me.