I write to know Im not alone

I was asked recently to write a critical paper explaining why I write... a tough assignment but very enlightening! I have learned that I write simply to know I am not alone. Generally, I look for commonalities in the differences of people or a link in humanity to God that allows me to figure out this life and come to know myself more intimately. Specifically, I feel that writing is a form of creation and perhaps one day if I write enough I will finally discover the right combination of words that unlock all the mysteries of the universe...
Beyond all that though I write to preserve all things precious to me. This summer my grandma moved in with my family because she has early on-set Alzheimer's. It was our house in Georgia or the old-folk's home in Texas. She chose to be a lonestar but we made her come live with us anyway. I was in charge of taking care of her. If she could remember I think she would still feel begrudged to the fact her granddaughter had to care for her, however in our time together we grew very close. I found, through conversation, that we had more in common than I ever imagined we could have--to be honest I had never considered what she and I could share. I discovered her existence beyond crossword puzzles and watching Days of Our Lives on repeat (because she can't remember what happened when she watched it two hours before). After a few months it began to disturb me that so much history would be lost with this woman as her light gradually dims and flickers. So I began to write. Not only in an effort to preserve my Grandmother but to solidify in words on pages the human connection we have. As I get to know her over and over in my writing I find myself reflecting in the ink.
I have remembered certain days in my journal...
July 21, 2008
I spent the day with Grandma which isn't unusual; it was my attitude that was different today. Ever since GG came back to live with us it has officially been my unofficial duty to be her company, run her errands, and take her out when she feels so inclined. More often than not I am resentful of this burden...
August 12, 2008
I am disgusted now with my ingratitude at the opportunity to spend time with GG. Her life is scary. Everything she has ever known is in Texas and all that is left of that is stored in her memory--it would be easier for her to hold water with a slotted spoon... This morning I found her curled up in a ball on the couch crying. She told me her Labrador sized chihuahua, Molly, missed Texas and wanted to go home. I wasn't fooled by the ventriloquist act. I dragged her out of bed, got her showered and dressed and took her to the closest Chik-fil-a. After the first course of waffled fries I noticed her eyes wondering to the solitary old man a few tables away. She joked about needing a man, but as an equally old woman came and sat across from him GG's eyes filled with tears that carried no laughter down her topographic face. We spent a brief moment in silence then, "I wonder what Jack is doing right now?" As long as I can remember Grandma Judy and Grandpa Jack were never together, in fact he is on his third wife while G-ma still dwells in their shattered union. You would think that after 30 years of being divorced she would find someone, or at least be over it by now. I was surprised at the haunting pain lingering from all those decades before. "How can he just discard me like that?", "I will never let anyone hurt me like he did again." Who knew she could be so relate able? Seeing as I just blew through another relationship. Fear grips me. I don't want to end up like her...