Magazine Posts

I am in the bathroom, ready for a new
day. I hear a loud noise and then
a plea of "Please help me" startled me ,
I go to the door and
do not hear the plea.
I hurriedly dress and seek an attendent
to check on the neighbor. They find
her, call Medic One. She is taken to
the hospital, treated and returns, in a week.
She is 93 and appears in good form.

My life, these past few months
have been spent in a
Memory Care Facility.
I moved here, to support my wife
and to honor her request of my
being near her.
I am considered to be an Independent,
as I do not need any assistance or aid
from the staff.
This is a happy place. The support staff
are very caring, in spite of a few
residents who will verbally abuse them.
This has been a positive, learning experience
for me as I have been allowed to participate
and be a witness to the care provided to
those friends and family who are dealing
with Dementia and Alzheimer disease.

The tears
seep from
my eyes.
There's no
sobbing nor,
any sighs.
Only memories,
I have
of you.
Why does
God take,
those you
so, love?
Where is
the mercy,
from above?
There isn't
a fairness,
is what
I see.
If there
was, he'd
have taken,
me.

I see you now
in colors of warm.
I miss the days,
when life was norm.
I hear the words,
"I love you" being said,
from morning rising,
until we're in bed.
You aren't the same,
neither am I.
When you don't remember
and when you ask,
"Where are you from?"
I am saddened,
for you not knowing me,
but I will tell you,
"I will always know thee".
Good night, my darling.
Good night my love.
I miss you dearly,
for you are my trove.

Where is the Heaven?
Where is the Hell?
Where is the place,
where Demons dwell?
I think I know,
knowing it well.
It is the place,
which I can tell.
When, my arms are empty,
you aren't with me.
You are a memory,
of what used to be.
I see your beauty,
in photos I took.
I know you better,
like reading a book.
When I look and see
you in the pictures,
like you used to be,
long will I wander,
long will I roam,
until the morrow
when I am at home.

Someone new,
tore a hole
in my Soul.
Shredded it, too.
What feeling,
now gone?
Indifference reigns.
Strong in
the community
and yet,
there is
still a
loving
feeling
of others,
outside
your family,
bringing care
and affection.
Is this
the dilemma
fated for me?
Staying locked
in this
Memory Care
Facility?
I must
wait and
solve this
personal difficulty.

Someone, many years ago,
described me as being stoic.
Stoic, the word: someone,
who does not complain or
show their emotions.
As I have aged, it seems
my emotional state is
far more sensitive.
I recall seeing my father's
eyes moisten, when I was
preparing to leave his home.
I didn't understand then.
I do now.

I've lost my resolve,
it was taken from me.
The stress was too much,
for me to see.

Forlorn the lover
who loved thee.
She is the best,
the best for me.
Long will I Remember
the love from she,
as she loved Mr dearly,
for all the World to see.

Writing your thoughts
will require some tools.
You, the Writer is expected
to follow the rules,
unless you're in Poetic mode
and willing to act as Fools.
Satisfaction, can be found,
if you avoid mental duels,
of being correct
or breaking the rules.
AKA, poetic license.

Cross were the words
flowing over her lips.
Sharp was her tongue,
sharp as a knife.
Waxen the wings,
beware the strife,
for you'll never know,
she is your wife.

How do you know,
you can't remember,
if your memory is gone?

Red the sky.
A grey dawn.
It was early,
so, I yawned.
Why do I rise
in the early morn,
when I'm not sleeping
a mind forlorn?
I worry about her
who worries about
everything and me.
Her life is fading away
as my old bones,
began to fray.