Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Alzheimer’s Disease
By Joyce French
Alzheimer’s Disease
Is slowly decimating
Her mind and her thoughts
She cries silent tears
Between confusion and fear.
The cost is priceless.
She won’t write that book
She won’t finish those projects
The tears are falling.
As the seasons change
Gray matter turns into dust
And the pain lessens.
Memories recede
Silence fills the blank places
She cries hidden tears.
Secrets fade away.
Mistakes no longer matter.
She no longer cries.
Is slowly decimating
Her mind and her thoughts
She cries silent tears
Between confusion and fear.
The cost is priceless.
She won’t write that book
She won’t finish those projects
The tears are falling.
As the seasons change
Gray matter turns into dust
And the pain lessens.
Memories recede
Silence fills the blank places
She cries hidden tears.
Secrets fade away.
Mistakes no longer matter.
She no longer cries.
[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Instructions for submitting are here.]
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Comments
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So real, so true, so sad. Thank you for your sensitive poem.
Posted by: Mary B Summerlin | Wednesday, 23 February 2011 at 05:49 AM
Alzheimer's may touch all of us eventually, but I got hope from your insightful poem that it does in the end, leave us silent with no more need for tears.
Posted by: Johna Ferguson | Wednesday, 23 February 2011 at 08:45 AM
Your sad poem touched me. I have a friend who is suffering from this terrible disease.
Posted by: Darlene | Wednesday, 23 February 2011 at 09:24 AM
Beautiful, sad, and true. What a scourge. Thank you for writing about it so sensitively.
Posted by: Marcia Mayo | Wednesday, 23 February 2011 at 01:52 PM
I feel your sadness that joins my own. My husband has AD. I remember hearing Nancy Reagan talk of The Long Goodbye...that makes it sound simple, without the countless episodes that defy the personalities of our loved ones. So sorry ...
Posted by: Linda | Wednesday, 23 February 2011 at 09:43 PM
There are still precious moments when my wife's ALZ opens a sliver of joy and she recognizes me and silently smiles. Her blue eyes shine as she tries to escape from her 8 year ALZ prison but all too soon she must return to that dark void. We must live for those moments.
Posted by: j. doak | Thursday, 24 February 2011 at 07:57 AM
If something this sad and scary can produce such beautiful poetry, maybe it is less scary to me. Blessings on the Caretakers; just reading and seeing movies of AD is daunting; caring for your loved one is surely the labor of love..4 of us, the Writer and 3 responders all face this each day. Regards to you all...
Posted by: Mary Follett | Monday, 07 March 2011 at 01:38 PM