Memories by Louise Todd Department of Surgery           Not every parent can reach back into the depths of his mind and pull up memories of his children. Because of the mind-crippling effects of Alzheimer's disease, some parents don't even remember that they have children. I watched my Dad go through the stages of the illness wondering if he would remember that I was his daughter, but one day in particular made me realize what was happening to him.         It was a wintry Sunday afternoon and I was sitting beside the hospital-type bed that most nursing homes have, watching Dad fidget with the edge of the blanket. Since he was unaware of my presence, I rested my hand on the silver bar, hoping the movement would catch his attention. Slowly he looked up at me.         "Is that you, Louise?"         "Yep, it's me, Pop. Do you want me to straighten your covers?"         "No," he said with a little shake of his head. Then he slipped off into his own little world again. I knew from previous attempts that it was useless for me to try to engage him in more conversation. Helplessly I glanced out the window to see snowflakes tumbling down, and recollections of a long ago Sunday jumped into my mind.         We had just been blessed with several inches of snow and the hill beside our house was perfect for sledding. Since we only had one sled, my two younger sisters, little brother and I had to take turns. When my turn finally came, Dad gave me a big push and I went skimming over the snow, reaching the bottom of the hill much too soon. As I was starting my trip back UP, I heard laughter from the top of the hill and looked up to see Dad ... bouncing, swirling, spinning, flying over the snow in a scoop shovel. Needless to say, the sled was soon forgotten.         A touch on my hand brought my mind back to the present. Dad was curiously feeling my fingers that were still resting there on the bar. I watched him and wished I could share that Sunday memory with him, but I knew all remembrance of that day, the snow and the scoop shovel had been stolen from him forever. I picked up his hand and pressed it lovingly against my cheek. He looked up at me again.         "Is that you, Louise?"         How much longer would he remember my name?